


Completely Cut Open

by samam



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Ethics, F/F, Femslash, Medical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-05-01 07:18:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14515245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samam/pseuds/samam
Summary: The Omnic Crisis is over, and Overwatch is the pinnacle of heroism. Moira O'Deorain, a doctor and researcher fresh from Ireland has just been hired by the organization. She's thrilled for the opportunity, especially since she'll be working so closely with Dr. Angela Ziegler, a hero of hers. But Moira's been tapped by Commander Gabriel Reyes for a series of special missions - can she keep her two lives separate from one another? Can she navigate her feelings for her superior without giving away her secrets?An idea about how Moira went bad and ended up injured by self-experimentation. Divergence from canon timelines and events, and a reimagining of them.





	1. Chapter 1

          “Right this way, Dr. O’Deorain.”  
          An Omnic butler held the door and gestured inside the large, grand ballroom. All gold and white, the walls were damasked with elegant flowers and leaves winding up towards the ceiling. The columns around the perimeter stood tall and solid, with gold edging around their circumference. Omnic staff floated and rolled between the high cocktail tables, draped in elegant white cloth with spectacular hard light centerpieces. The room was packed with people in gowns and tuxedos - Moira had chosen a tuxedo, complete with tails. It was her first public appearance as a member of Overwatch, and the party invitation said “formal.”  
          At least, she thought it was a party. As she looked around, she realized she might have made some assumptions. There was a large stage set up on one side of the room, with a hard light podium and prompter set at center. A presentation? Was this an awards ceremony? Moira hated doing that bureaucratic pretending, exacerbated by the fact she couldn’t find a single familiar face. Omnics carried flutes of champagne and finger foods, and Moira started toward one carrying alcohol.  
          “Ah, Dr. O’Deorain!”  
          Moira looked to see Jack Morrison coming towards her, smiling and reaching for a handshake.  
          “Commander. I’m happy someone found me,” she said, extending her hand to meet his. “This is all…a little intimidating.”  
          Jack laughed. “You wouldn’t know it looking at you - sharp tux.” He swiped two glasses of champagne from a rolling Omnic. “This helps.” He handed her one glass, and she smiled as she took a drink. “I’ll introduce you around, come on.”  
          “You look very handsome, by the way. I’ve only ever seen everyone in armor - the formalwear is a nice change.” Moira hadn’t officially started at Overwatch yet, but of course she was familiar with their heroes. Who wasn’t? “I almost didn’t recognize you without that visor you always have on.”  
          Morrison laughed a little. “Yeah, everyone has a little fun playing dress up. It’s out of character for most of us - like you said, we’re unrecognizable!”  
          “Ah, but I still found you!” From a few feet away, another voice chimed in. “Hello, Captain Ana Amari. But please, just call me Ana.” She was in a long black gown made of velvet, with a high neckline and no sleeves. It had a daring slit up her thigh, and her hair was down in waves along her shoulders. Just like Jack had said, despite her glamorous look, Ana held her arm out strong, and firmly shook Moira’s hand - never not a captain.  
          “Doctor Moira O’Deorain.”  
          “Ana, I had no idea your hair was that long!” Jack joked. “How come you never wear it down?”  
          “Impractical!” she said, without hesitation. “All of this has been getting in my way all night!” And as if to illustrate her point, she threw her hair back behind her. “As soon as Angela gives her presentation and the photos are over, I’m pulling it up or putting a hat on or something…” Then, remembering the new recruit, she said, “Sorry, Moira. I don’t usually complain this much.”  
          “That’s up for debate.” Snipped Jack, dropping his glass on another passing tray. “Do they have anything stronger here? Champagne is fun, but I could use a whiskey…”  
          Moira just watched, silently. There was a lot to take in - all around the room were groups like the one she was in, with heroes talking amongst themselves. A boisterous group in the corner was hollering in German, probably? She recognized Captain Wilhelm with his head thrown back in laughter. Six or seven young girls were clustered together, chatting and giggling happily. One table held a gorilla in a tuxedo, holding a group enraptured - a gorilla? Moira did a double take in disbelief. How did she miss him before? Winston was a sight to behold in person, prompting Moira to slam the rest of her glass. She’d need a little more intoxication if she was going to be social and juggle everything being thrown at her.  
          “You’re alright. Winston wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Jack said, gently taking her empty glass from her hand.  
          Moira was mortified. “Oh, no, no! I’m not - Winston is great, I suppose I wasn’t….um, prepared.”  
          “Ha ha!” Ana laughed, slapping Moira on the back. “Really, it’s quite alright. There’s a lot of people here, from every area in every specialty - you probably won’t even see most of them until this time next year.”  
          Moira nodded. “So Overwatch has a lot going on.”  
          “Absolutely.” Jack said. “More departments than you could name.”  
          Good to know. That gave her a little sense of security about her new position in the organization.  
          “Oh, this is someone you should definitely meet. He…takes some getting used to, so he doesn’t do much face-to-face, but he’s a great Commander. Reyes!” Amari hollered to Gabriel Reyes, talking to a beautiful couple a few tables away. He looked over, and when he caught Moira’s eyes, he gave an easy smile and excused himself from his conversation.  
          “Good evening, Captain Amari. And this must be the newest recruit, Dr. O’Deorain?”  
          So it was just as he said. “Yes. A pleasure to meet you, Commander Reyes.”  
          They’d actually met months before, when she was first hired. Moira had submitted her research to Overwatch on little more than a whim - still home in Ireland, she saw their listing for someone to oversee their clinic. While hands-on medicine like that wasn’t her passion, she saw the opportunity to have her research seen and knew she’d be a fool not to try. She had amazing ideas, the seeds of the next big wave of medicine. Moira knew she could change the world, and hoped Overwatch, who believed in the same mission as her, would see her potential and bring her on.  
          But it was one in a million. She was sure there were a thousand other people vying for the same position. Besides, she was miles away in another country - but at least they had some of her papers. If they were interested, she was there, but she had mostly put it out of her mind when a few weeks went by with no contact.  
          When she got the first phone call, she was confused. She assumed it was a hoax, some scheme that preyed upon the hundreds of people who applied to Overwatch. Some data breach must have leaked their phone numbers - what’s new? The caller told her a place to meet, and said to come if she was serious about her research. The message even gave the whole, “come alone or else the deal is off the table,” red flags every step of the way. She was about to hang up and delete the recording, but the end of the message gave her pause: “We’re not Overwatch, but we have access to their resources. We’ll help you as much as they will - if not more. Let me prove it to you.” He was just a voice on the phone at the time, but Moira came to trust him the more he spoke. “You’ve got the job. I personally pushed to get you hired. Expect your phone call in the next five minutes. Overwatch will give you work, a place to live, all that stuff, but we’ll help you unlock the full potential of your calling. Meet at the designated spot in an hour.”  
          Bullshit. Moira went back to her work, but kept looking down at her phone. Was that real? Who would know about her status with Overwatch like that? She supposed it didn’t matter much, if her phone didn’t ring. She pulled her focus away from it, trying to get back on track. But what did that mean, “unlock the full potential” and being able to help her?  
          “Nothing. It meant nothing.” She was level-headed. She was logical. She wasn’t going to buy in to some insane promise from an anonymous phone call, especially one that was so clearly -  
          Her phone rang.  
          “Hello?”  
          “Hello, Dr. O’Deorain. I’m calling from the office of Commander Jack Morrison and Overwatch. He’d like to discuss your submission and future employment with our organization.”  
          Moira sat, stunned.  
          “Dr. O’Deorain?”  
          The message was correct. Here was the job offer, with minutes to spare.  
          “Dr. O’Deorain, are you still there?”  
          “Oh, yes, yes. I’m here.” She snapped back, releasing the poor secretary was still on the hook, waiting for her. “Thank you so much, I’m just overwhelmed to be receiving this call…”  
          An hour later, she was standing on the specified bridge, looking out over the river that ran through the city. It was just the beginning of twilight, with throngs of people passing over to go home from work or out to parties for the night. The golden light shone on the water, and Moira leaned over it with her back to the crowds. She was supposed to meet the mysterious voice from the message here any minute.  
          “Walk with me.”  
          She looked over her shoulder and saw a man walking across the bridge, just slightly looking over his back, in her direction. He wasn’t headed home from work - he was just in jeans and a white tee shirt. Was it him? Did he say that? Just before she lost sight of him, she pushed off the railing and followed, keeping enough distance in case she was wrong. He looked ahead again, keeping his pace the same. She kept following, weaving through the crowds. Suddenly, he made a hard turn left, down an alley. Moira followed, seeing him down at the end, turning left again. She hustled, turning just in time to catch him disappear through a door. It made her stop - was he running from her? Maybe she was wrong, that wasn’t who she was here to meet. Or maybe it was a trick after all, and some horrible fate waited for her beyond that door. As she stood in the shadows of the alley, considering, the man she was following poked his head back into the alley.  
          “Cold feet already, doctor? Let’s move.”  
          Moira blinked. “Alright then,” she muttered, mostly to herself. She followed him into the building, and he whistled to guide her to the stairs on the right. It looked like this was a brothel or a hostel, and they’d entered from some back door. A hall continued in front of her into the rest of the first floor, but she turned and went up the stairway to her right, after the man. She joined him as he opened a door on the second floor into an office. It was warmer than she thought it would be, based on the man who used it - lamps letting off golden light that illuminated the plush couches and chairs. Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed with thick tomes, and a somewhat cluttered desk sat in the middle. He was sitting behind it, gathering together papers and folders. He was still young, early thirties? Not much older than Moira, but his skin was weathered and scarred like someone decades beyond. His dark features scowled hard as he looked around the desk.  
          “Take a seat anywhere. Give me just a second.”  
          Moira glanced about the room, and decided the couch against the wall and next to a window would be safest. “Can I at least get your name, finally?”  
          He didn’t look up from his desk. “Commander Reyes. Gabe. I work for Overwatch.”  
          Moira cocked her head to the side. “Commander Reyes? But you’ve been responsible for-”  
          “Yeah, yeah, just give me a second!” He barked. Moira cleared her throat and sat back. “Alright.” He flipped through the compiled stack in his hands until he found the document he wanted. “Dr. Moira O’Deorain. Yeah, that’s right…” He read over the paper. “Yeah, Morrison and Amari are thrilled to get their hands on you…”  
          Moira furrowed her brow. “I’m sitting right here, Commander.”  
          Gabriel finally looked up at her. “Right. I’ve read your file. Of course Overwatch is interested - I can imagine they’re going to have you working closely with Dr. Ziegler on new healing tech, integrating some of your research, things like that. But I oversee another… _project_ within the organization that I hope I can interest you in…”  
          “Another project? There was no mention of any other projects when I set up my meeting with Commander Morrison.”  
          “No, no, and there wouldn’t be. Morrison knows we exist - but that’s the extent. He doesn’t know who’s in it. He doesn’t know what we do. No one in Overwatch knows. That’s one reason I think you’d be such a good recruit - you seem like the type that keeps to yourself. Can keep a secret.”  
          Moira half-grinned. “And what if I am? What would I be doing with this “project” and you?”  
          “You’d be part of our special strike team. We need a field medic, and we can’t take Dr. Ziegler, for obvious reasons.”  
          Moira was a little taken aback. “A field medic? With all due respect, Commander, I’ve worked very hard to get my position in a lab. I’m not going to become a soldier, if this is some strange recruitment technique you all use.”  
          Reyes laughed. “God, no. You wouldn’t be a soldier. You’d also be the lead weapons researcher. It wouldn’t come with much glory, what with the nature of our group, but you’d have unlimited access to anything you want. Anything to help your research. Whatever materials, lab equipment, anything you need to make our missions successful.”  
          Moira took it in, thinking. “Overwatch isn’t already developing weapons? How are you lacking a research team?”  
          “They are. Guns, new ships, upgrades to armor. But I’m interested in finding the most powerful tool we can use. And your work definitely interests me. What you submitted here, yes, is a comprehensive look at your work in healing and medicine, but even me, who’s never worked in a lab a day in his life, can see the bigger applications for this. Genetic modification? Dr. O’Deorain, you’re changing the game. I argued with Jack for 30 minutes to get him on board with hiring you, despite the relocation.”  
          This was flattery - she wasn’t going to be wooed by compliments. But he did have a point, and Moira would be lying if she said she never thought about alternative applications to her work. “What if I say no? Are you going to get me fired?”  
          Reyes laughed. “Fired? Hell no! Did you just hear that I had a 30 minute argument with Jack? I can't do shit. No, we need a researcher like you, even if you say no - but if you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you.”  
          Moira laughed in response, but all joking was gone from Gabriel’s face. “Kill me?” She asked as her own face fell.  
          “Unfortunately.”  
          “Doesn’t seem like hero behavior to me.”  
          “Maybe not.” Gabe shrugged, then leaned down onto his hands and looked at Moira. “But don’t forget: we’re the good guys. In all of this, we’re the good guys. But even the good guys have to do bad things sometimes.”  
          Moira paused again. He was right - she could be happy developing new cures and medicine, working within the boundaries provided to her. But she was already filing away ideas that were coming to her, new experiments she wanted to run, things she could try if she had the unfettered access that Reyes was dangling in her face right now.  
          “What would my days look like, if I said yes?”  
          “You would actually work for Overwatch. It’s not _just_ a cover job. Clinic work, probably assisting Angela if she needs. At night, you come with us on Blackwatch strikes. When we don’t have work, you’re researching. I’ll check in with you periodically, give you what guidance I can. You don’t have any assistants yourself, which is probably for the best - you said you…” He flipped through to Moira’s application, then read, “you ’like working independently and with general oversight,’ another reason I chose you.” He put the papers to the side again. “I can’t force you to do anything, Dr. O’Deorain, but you’d be a fool to say no. And when we can come forward from the shadows more, bring your work to all of Overwatch? That glory will be yours. My vision for Blackwatch is a group that pushes the boundaries of right and wrong in order to redefine them. To show those who are afraid of progress the value that it has, and prove the efficacy of actually taking some initiative and not being passive peacekeepers.”  
          She was having a harder and harder time arguing. It was exactly in line with what she wanted - she loved what Overwatch stood for, but was worried about how she’d fit into their rules. She wanted to continue her personal research, but feared repercussions. Gabe was offering her a way out of all those things. Moira looked down at the ground, then back at Reyes. She steeled her jaw and took a deep breath.  
          “Alright.”  
          And it was that day that Moira became both an employee of Overwatch, as well as the lead researcher and medic for Blackwatch. By day, she was a doctor and scientist, keeping the heroes of the organization and the civilians they helped healthy. At night, her focuses shifted, and she was to provide support to a team that carried out assassinations, infiltrations, and espionage right under everyone’s noses.  
          But tonight, she was just the new kid, in an opulent ballroom, shaking hands. “A pleasure to meet you, Commander Reyes.”  
          He had a gleam in his eye as he spoke. “Excited to get started?”  
          “Yes, very.” She met his double meaning seamlessly. “I’ve just been itching to get my hands dirty.”  
          His smile widened knowingly as Jack pulled focus toward the stage.  
          “Looks like it’s time for Angela’s presentation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hi! thanks for checking this out! 
> 
> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of the party.

          “Looks like it’s time for Angela’s presentation.”  
          Jack pulled everyone’s attention to the stage, where Dr. Angela Ziegler was walking toward the podium at center. The famous doctor, scientist, and inventor. A name impossible to avoid in medicine nowadays, because she was on the forefront of everything. Moira was mesmerized by her the second she came into view - the doctor wore a tailored white suit, with a golden tie and crisp, black button down visible under her jacket. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and her soft smile never left her face as she hit her mark, took a deep breath, and looked up into the crowd. The epitome of confidence, Dr. Ziegler leaned into the mic, and with the easy smile still in place, simply said, “Hello there.” Voices and conversation stopped immediately - even Captain Wilhelm swallowed his loud laughter and gave his attention. Moira inhaled hard, realizing she’d forgotten to take a breath.  
          “I’m very excited, too.” Captain Amari leaned in close and murmured to Moira. She nodded, not hearing the captain, never taking her eyes off Angela.  
          “I am Dr. Angela Ziegler, call sign ‘Mercy.’”  
          The audience applauded, and a few people shouted hoots. Commander Morrison even gave a short whistle through his fingers.  
          “Thank you for the warm welcome!” There was a laugh in her voice as she spoke, and Moira was struck by how much love Dr. Ziegler looked out on the crowd with. In all the videos she’d seen, news interviews and documentary clips, Angela Ziegler was truly an angel both in and out of battle. But videos paled in comparison to the real thing, who Moira was seeing for the first time. She admired this woman’s work, and her astronomical career. The strides she had made with her team in Overwatch was already completely redesigning medicine in the every day world - Moira could name multiple changes made in her own lab at home thanks to Angela’s work. She was driven, intelligent, life-changing, and  _stunning_ , and Moira was enraptured.  
          Angela spoke about the current state of Overwatch and it’s wellness - about new dangers the heroes were facing, and what they’d done to overcome. She spoke about her shifting role away from the battlefield, but that it didn’t mean she was abandoning those on the front lines. She talked about new experiments, methods that Overwatch would be trying, projects that would be in development. Moira could tell now the evening was, in essence, a “state of the organization,” delivered by the most beloved person possible, to an audience of those who kept the organization running.  
          Moira finally pulled her eyes away and looked around the room - yes, it was all soldiers and fighters, mechanics and engineers, their families and loved ones. The actual heart of the organization, along with the reasons they were fighting. They got to play dress up, to be tended to and waited on, and then be the focus of a speech. Angela spoke directly to the things they cared about that she was devoted to: their safety, their recovery, and improving the lives of everyone around them. It was almost magical to watch, as Moira looked from face to face. She watched people light up, pull their wives and husbands in a little closer. She couldn’t help but get swept up in the wave of pride, in the feeling of camaraderie that settled over the room.  
          “…wonderful job welcoming new recruits, like Cadet Lena Oxton, who joined us just a few shorts months ago.” Moira focused back in as Angela gestured to that group of young twenty-somethings she’d spotted - one was waving excitedly at the room.  _“Must be a squad of new cadets, then…”_  
          “And we’d also like to welcome a new face to the organization, Doctor Moira O’Deorain. She’ll be overseeing the clinic, as well as assisting with research.” She looked directly at Moira, and smiled. Moira stared back, caught up for a second too long before looking around the room and giving polite nods to each section. They applauded, and even though all eyes were on her, she didn’t feel nervous - the room was welcoming, and quickly turned it’s attention back to the star of the evening.  
          “If you have any further questions, my door is always open. Your commanders Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes are also looking out for you.” She paused, looking over the entire crowd. “And always remember -”  
          She stepped back from the mic, joyously shouting along with the rallying cry the audience knew to give. “We! Are! Overwatch!” They broke into wild applause. Jack and Ana clapped politely, giving each other looks across Moira.  
          “It’s a little cheesy, but it makes them happy.” Ana said with a smile.  
          "And she loves to make them happy.” Jack responded, and Moira chuckled a bit. True, she wasn’t really the type for call and response like that, but the refreshed energy of everyone in the room was undeniable.   
          “But enough with the business!” Angela said, warming back up and becoming more casual. “This is, after all, a party, so enjoy yourselves!”  
          The audience applauded again, hooting and hollering for Angela as she waved and left the stage. Moira watched her go, staring blankly at the spot she left until Ana spoke.  
          “Don’t worry, dear, you didn’t miss her. She’s just going to get changed, then she’ll meet us.” Ana assured her. “You can ask any questions you’d like, Angela is wonderful.”  
          “I’m serious, where can I get a drink around here?” Jack was looking around the room, wildly searching for a bar or an Omnic with something of interest to him.  
          “Jack, hush.” Gabe pulled a flask from inside of his suit jacket.  
          “Oh, thank God.”  
          “Boys!” Ana admonished Jack as he tossed back a shot, pushing him behind her.  
          “Oh, I’m sorry…am I interrupting something?” It was Cadet Oxton. She was wearing a short, fluffy dress with beat up sneakers - Moira couldn’t help but smile.  
          “No, Lena!” Ana reassured her. “Like Angela said, we’re  _always_  here.” She scowled at the commanders, and Gabe snickered before turning away with Jack.  
          “I just wanted to introduce myself to the new doctor! Lena Oxton. Moira, was it?”  
****“Yes, O’Deorain. You were the cadet with the…time disturbance?” Of course Moira had read the papers on it - she was one of a kind. “Your case is just marvelous - and your resilience has been admirable.”  
          “Well, thanks, doc! It’s really tall Winston and Dr. Z - and this little guy.” She tapped her chronal accelerator, currently attached to a band around her wrist. “I thought it looked funny over the dress.”  
          “Of course.” Moira laughed. “I’d love to take a closer look at that sometime.”  
          “I can show you the blueprints myself!” She was thankful for her poker face as she took in the looming presence of Winston. He smiled, wearing a very large suit that was clearly made by hand for him - if not  _by_ him. It got the idea of a suit across, but she could see that his tie was a repurposed curtain, and his sleeves came from two different couch upholsteries.  
          Finally, she spoke. “That would be wonderful. Winston, I presume.”  
          He laughed, warm and kind. “I have some fairly distinct features, I suppose. It’s a pleasure, Doctor O’Deorain.” She would get used to this, eventually. And though she didn’t think it was possible, what people said was true - Winston was pretty charming. “How are you, Captain Amari?”  
          “I’m wonderful, Winston. Enjoying the party.” Ana was smiling, until Jack and Gabe returned on either side of her, clearly more acquainted with the flask.  
          “Winston! And Lena! Having a good time tonight?” Jack was much brighter, much more casual after a few drinks. Gabe stood by his side, mostly laughing at everything Jack said and affectionately calling people rude names. They chatted, catching up on work gossip, leaving Moira to mostly listen and sip her champagne. Nerves were setting in - maybe she should just call it a night and excuse herself before Dr. Ziegler arrived. She made an appearance, and this wasn’t really her place.  
          Moira was thankful that the rest of the group took over on greetings, because she couldn’t find her voice. Angela arrived, signaled by Ana gasping loudly. “Why do you always steal the show like this?” She bemoaned, getting a giggle from Angela. Moira thought she had looked amazing in her suit, but she was unprepared for Dr. Ziegler in this gown. A white and gold sweetheart dress with fluffy, layered skirts that danced around her as she walked. Gold embellishments wrapped around her waist, up her abomen, and became golden tinsel in the skirts that glimmered like diffused stars. Her hair was different, too, from a high ponytail to a low, messy chignon. Moira had to catch her breath, looking down into her glass.   
          “And Dr. O’Deorain.” Angela finally turned her attention to Moira. “How wonderful to finally meet you. Angela Ziegler.” She stretched out her hand to shake Moira’s, and she couldn’t help but imagine taking it and bringing her lips down, kissing the tops of her fingers. Instead, they shook.  
          “The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Ziegler. I’m absolutely thrilled for the opportunity.”  
          “And we can’t wait to see what you can do. This one always comes back pretty beat up.” She said, placing her hand on Lena’s shoulder.  
          “Dr. Z! I was just telling her how cool you are, and you go on and say that!” Lena faked her tantrum, even making Winston laugh.  
          “You and Captain Wilhelm! You can never stay together, always running off on your own.” Angela countered  
          Lena continued to throw a fit, even dragging the conversation over to Captain Wilhelm himself. As the group moved toward the other table, a hand caught Moira’s arm and held her back.  
          “Hold on a minute.” Reyes spoke softly and quickly, aware of everyone around them. “I saw that, just then. All of that.”  
          Moira was genuinely confused. “I’m not sure what you mean.”  
          “With Angela. The staring, the looking.”  
          Oh no…was he serious? What was this about? “If there’s some kind of history there, I don’t mean-”  
          “No, no, that’s not what I’m getting at.” He brushed off the insinuation. “I’m not jealous of anything. Just…that can’t happen.”  
          She was still lost. “Do you seriously have issue? I would think an organization like this would have more progressive views about relationships -”  
          “Jesus, O’Deorain! I don’t give a shit about who you date or fuck or  _anything_ , as long as it’s not an Overwatch member!” He was whisper-yelling now, so he took a breath and leaned in even closer before continuing. “Not  _one_ of those higher ups know anything about us. About you. It stays that way.” He stared at Moira, eyes locked. “We don’t  _get_  to be ‘friends’ like the rest of them, and we  _especially_  don’t get romantically involved with any of them. You would compromise the entire organization.”  
          Moira looked down. “Yes, of course.” It made sense. She didn’t know what to say.  
          “We stay shallow and silent. The less anyone knows, the less they can figure out when things go wrong. Now let’s go, before they notice.” Gabe started toward the table, not giving her time to answer. She didn’t have anything to say, anyway - ultimately, it was for the best. She didn’t stand any chance with Angela Ziegler. The two rejoined the group, sliding back into place and laughing as everyone bickered. Moira just watched - Ana, continually ready to jump in and moderate; Wilhelm and Oxton, who had started a pissing contest about mission performance; Angela and Jack, gently egging them on and laughing; and Gabe, who really did stay in the shadows. No one paid him much attention - and that’s how she would have to be, too. It looked so lonely, she thought, and she suddenly didn’t want to be there anymore. She didn’t need more loneliness - at the very least, she didn’t need to feel alone, surrounded by people. People she hardly knew, but was supposed to care for. She was starting to freak out, to spiral. She leaned to Captain Amari.  
          “This has been just wonderful.” She started, pulling Ana’s attention from the fight. “I think I’m going to head home, though. Still trying to settle in and all that.”  
          “Oh, of course! You get home safe, and let us know if you need anything, okay?” Ana smiled, patting Moira’s shoulder.  
          “I will. Thank you, Captain.” She turned, and as she started to the door, she caught Reyes one last time - he just stared, a warning.  _‘We don’t_ get _to be friends.’_  Echoing, bouncing around in her head. She looked to the ground, then took her leave without saying any more goodbyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, this got a lot more attention than i thought it would! thanks friends! and if it wasn't clear, this is marked explicit because there is erotica coming. also, this is currently planned to be 31 chapters, but will probably end up being more because I'm a Verbose Bitch.
> 
> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira's first time out with Blackwatch.

          When Moira heard “special Overwatch strike team,” she conjured an image in her mind. She imagined helipads late at night, dropping in through ceilings on wires, specialized coms and earpieces to communicate with. What she didn’t think of, however, was being crammed into an old surveillance van that still reeked of the fast food and body odor of whatever private investigator owned it before. All of the machinery and other equipment that originally filled it was emptied out, leaving only a table that was bolted into the floor of the van and the crates they used as seats around it.  
          “Why are we in this hunk of junk again?” McCree asked, and Moira looked to Commander Reyes expectantly.  
          “Yes, _why_ this option?” She asked.  
          “To sneak up on ‘em,” grumbled the commander, not looking up from the schematics he was examining. “Chopper was too loud.”  
          The van hit a bump, and as it jostled back into place it groaned and squealed with metal on metal.  
          “Too loud.” Genji didn’t say much, but he made his points very clear. Moira smiled a little.  
          At least they’re equipment was pretty good for the mission at hand. They were outfitted in sleek, lightweight black armor, a uniform that had been designed for her ahead of time. When she arrived at headquarters that night to embark on the mission, Reyes had it ready - she didn’t ask how they got her measurements. She was also given a medic’s pack that she carried on her back, with a variety of first aid as well as Captain Amari’s capsules on loops at her sides. This whole arrangement wasn’t something she was used to, and as they approached their destination, her heart began beating a little faster. She had experience on the field - everyone did, if they were in medicine during the Crisis. Tending to battle wounds was simply a grisly reality of the job. But she was wise enough to know when she was in unfamiliar territory, and this was that - she’d never worked on such a small team, with so much high-pressure responsbility on her at once. She _especially_ had never worked with these strange little biotic grenades she was given tonight, but Reyes made it clear there wasn’t much else.  
          The van bounced again, actually lifting Moira from her seat for a split second.  
          “Hey!” Gabe pounded on the partition wall behind the driver’s seat. “You trying to flip this thing before we even get there?” He came back to the papers he’d been examining and presented them for the rest of the team. “So. We’re being dropped off here. McCree -”  
          “Yeah, yeah, I’m getting into place ‘round back. We’ve been over this, can’t we just relax?” McCree said, leaning back in his seat. “We usually work late, but this is just ridiculous.” He tipped his hat over his face, which Reyes promptly swatted off.  
          “Pay attention! Where was I…Yeah, McCree, you get into position. Me and Genji will incapacitate guards. Moira, you stay on us.”  
          She and Genji stayed silent, just nodding.  
          “Luckily, there shouldn’t be more than four out right now because it’s two in the morning.” McCree gave a dissatisfied grumble. “When the guards are down, we’ll move inside. I’ll move into position to signal you. McCree, you take him out.” Gabe continued. “Any questions?”  
          “Who was this fella?” McCree asked, much to the commander’s chagrin.  
          “The leader of an extremist cell. Homegrown terrorists planning attacks ‘for’ the Omnics.” He said, rolling his eyes. “He’s gaining a following among other Omnics and even some humans, and we need to stop him.”  
          “Terrorist?” Genji asked.  
          “Yes, we’re positive there’s some threat?” Moira chimed in. “Don’t tell me we’re just executing Omnics.”  
          “Of course there’s a threat.” Gabe said. “You’ll see when we get there. This is no normal Omnic. This is the head boss of some very bad robots.” Reyes said. “Just focus on your role and we’ll all make it out of here.”  
          There were so many reasons to be nervous about their mission. For one, she felt a little like she was thrown to the sharks being put out on a mission so soon like this. In theory, it didn't sound so bad. When she was mulling it over in the lab earlier in the week, it even sounded a little exhilirating. One could even say she was  _excited._ But now, as they approached their destination and the reality of each step in the process settled in, she felt unease. Second, she wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing - she knew clearance issues were going to come up, keeping her in the dark about a lot of things, but who was giving these orders? How were they getting their information? She wanted to be on the side of the good guys, but she also new plenty of bad guys that masqueraded. People often just wanted Omnics dead, civilian or not - was that the kind of organization she was now working for? No, she told herself, Overwatch wasn’t like that. They were brokering peace with the Omnics, trying to usher in a new way forward. But she wasn’t here with Overwatch - what was Blackwatch?  
          The van pulled to a stop, bringing her back to the present with Reyes peeking out the partition window. “Alright. We walk from here.” They were against the treeline, deep in the forest that covered the nearby mountains. The road stretched on in either direction, a thin line cut through the dense greenery.As they stepped out, Reyes signaled to the driver, and the van continued on down the road.  
          “Looks like the kind of forest you’d find a body in.” McCree said, with a little shudder.  
          “Geez, and you say _I’m_ grim.” The commander side-eyed McCree as he looked around. “The fortress is near the river, just on the other side of this hill.”  
          “Fortress?” McCree asked out loud, to which Reyes just scoffed again.  
          “You would be shocked what exists just under your nose _._ ”  
          Genji interrupted them. “Over this? Pretty far.”  
          "A short hike,” Gabe confirmed. “You ready?”  
          “Hike?!” McCree cried. “You didn’t say nothing about no mountain climbing!”  
          “It’s easy, calm down.” The commander gestured up the face of the mountain, where the very top of a small tower was visible over the dense trees. “He’s holed up in a cave, they’d see us coming from miles away if we took the roads all the way there. Let’s get moving.”   
          McCree continued to grumble and pant the rest of the way there, trying to get Reyes to slow every few minutes. Moira just kept her head down and her eyes where she was stepping, careful not to trip or stumble. Genji stayed by her side, moving so effortlessly it looked more like he was skating, which McCree took the time to gripe about. Reyes stayed in the lead, and finally interrupted one of Jesse’s lamentations by holding his hand up, signaling a stop.  
          “Time for a break?” McCree asked, already looking for a rock to sit on.  
          “No. We’re here.” Gabe dropped his voice, and the other three shared looks - time to focus up. “Jesse, if it’s not _too much trouble_ ,” he growled, “head around to the east.” McCree nodded, then disappeared deep into the trees.  
          “What about us?” Genji asked.  
          “We’re pushing straight on through.”  
          Moira swallowed, staying a safe distance behind the other two as they moved ahead. As the entrance to the cave came into view, they paused, hiding between the trees and stealing looks. Reyes was right - there was only one way in and one way out. Anything but sneaking through the forest would have gotten them shot on sight.  
          “I’m surprised he doesn’t have a tighter grasp on the surrounding forest.” Moira mused. “Someone as dangerous as you say, but not one trap?”  
          “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Gabe said with a small shrug. “So we have two guard posts there and there,” he said, gesturing with two pointed fingers, “meaning four guards total. Should be clear for a bit until we get inside. I’ll go left, you take right, and I should be able to open this main hatch from my position.”  
          Genji nodded once, then looked toward his target. There were two elevated platforms on either side of the entrance that housed armed guards, watching over the large metal doors set into the rock face and the open area in front of it.  
          “You ready, O’Deorain?”  
          She nodded as well.  
          “See you on the other side.” Gabe and Genji were off, following the treeline in either direction. Moira stayed in the center, watching them go as far as she could, but the dense trees swallowed them up pretty quickly.She held her breath as she waited - she wouldn’t really know what was going on until that door opened. She strained to listen, hear any footsteps or sounds of a struggle she needed to respond to, so she nearly leapt out of skin when a loud crack came from the right. Her head snapped to the source, and she saw the trees rustle and guards make their way down - _“Genji.”_  
          Moira started toward Reyes - he had to do something. She followed the commander’s path, making sure to stay just within the trees on the left, looking ahead so she wouldn’t blow his cover -  
          “Moira, no!”  
          She didn’t have time to react before she stepped into a tripwire, sending rope flying and hoisting her up into the air. Moira fell face first, smashing her head into the ground and dragging her along her side until she was completely upside down. From here, she could look up and see Gabe, strung up in a similar way.  
          “You did say there should have been traps.” He muttered. Moira could see he’d taken a tumble, too - his lip was busted, with huge scrapes across his cheek.  
          “What do we do now?” She asked, trying to look around. “Damn it, my eye.” It was starting to swell shut from the blow, and her face was beginning to throb under the raw-scraped skin.  
          “You alright?”  
          “For now.” As if on cue, the biotic grenades began slipping out of their loops, smashing to the ground beneath them. Slightly dazed and completely disoriented, Moira had no hopes of catching them and could only watch the healing fields beneath them glow, then fizzle out.  
          “Of _course_ we’re just out of range. Of _course._ ”  
          Moira tried to think. They were, indeed, too high up - even if they managed to cut the rope without drawing attention, neither of them could take that kind of fall right now. Her head really started throbbing, pounding with the blood struggling to leave it and making ideas harder and harder to come by. She heard Reyes groan, too, starting to feel the discomfort.  
          “Did you see Genji?” he asked Moira.  
          “No, I came to find you.”  
          He cursed again. “Guess we both got caught up around the same time -” He was drowned out by a shout, then pistol fire.  
          “What the hell?” Reyes cried, flipping hard within his restraint to turn himself and look the way it came. Suddenly, from the right, Jesse and Genji came barreling through the trees.  
          “What happened to the plan?” McCree cried as he ran over to Gabe. Genji started helping Moira down - he, too, had indeed found a trap and Moira could see what all the noise was. Instead of a rope trap, like they’d found, Genji stumbled onto a pitfall. Based on the deep lacerations in his shoulder and huge gouges in the rest of his torso, she guessed the spikes at the bottom had been freshly sharpened. The two quickly got Moira and Reyes down, but they only had a moment to find their footing before they heard branches snapping and heavily armored men chattering.  
          “Run, now!” Gabe yelled, taking off in an unsteady jog. Genji sprinted up to meet him. Moira struggled to get on her feet, head still pounding and with absolutely no vision left in her blackened eye. As she pushed up onto her knees, she felt McCree’s hand under her arm, gently pulling her up.  
          “Go, I’ll buy some time!” He turned, and Moira started away from the cave. She looked over her shoulder to see McCree, jogging backward and facing the guards, lining up sights with his left hand hovering over his gun’s hammer. In an instant, he emptied his chamber, hitting the attackers with deadly precision. The ones he missed were stunned into stillness for a moment as they took in the carnage, and he took it as his chance to flee. Turning tail, he started running.  
          “What are you doing? We gotta get outta here!” He hollered, and Moira picked up her pace as much as she could. McCree stayed on her, and the as the two cleared the trees again, Reyes and Genji were in their getaway van, holding the sliding doors open.  
          “Let’s go, let’s go!” He yelled, and the two nearly dove in as shots began hitting the ground at their feet. The van sped off, and the team sat in the back, catching their breath. They rode in silence for a moment, until Moira reached into her pack and got to work. There was only so much she could do for everyone - Jesse had escaped relatively unharmed. The other three, however, were going to need extensive rest time. She couldn’t do anything for Genji’s cyborg parts, and his wounds would still need stitches to heal properly. Gabe and herself looked like they got thrown around like dolls, with parts of their faces bursting into bruises and bloody scrapes up and down one side of their bodies. The scrapes were mostly handled, but their fat lip and swollen eye would just need ice and time to look normal again. When they were finally put together a little more and not in so much pain, Gabe spoke.  
          “I’m sorry.”  
          The team just looked at him.  
          “It ain’t your fault,” said McCree. “You had no idea all that was gonna happen.”  
          “Moira even said something about traps…”  
          “Next time.” Genji was quiet, just barely audible above the tires on the dirty road.  
          “Next time?” Gabe laughed, a sarcastic bark. “We’ll be lucky he stays in the _country_ for more than a day. This mission is a complete failure.” He rested his hand against his fist, propped up on his leg in resignation. “But we’ll deal with it. Everyone needs to get better first. Moira, especially you - no clinic work until your…” He gestured to her face, uncertain. “Your…situation is gone.”  
          “But what happened out there? I was only gone a few minutes before I heard all kind of commotion.” McCree asked, and Genji sighed, hard.  
          “It’s fine, Shimada. Shit happens.” Reyes said. “A forest with too many hiding spots. Bad recon. Adrenaline.”  
          “There’s nothing more than what you found.” Moira told Jesse. “We got trapped.”  
          “Trapped like rats.” Genji was just staring into the distance in front of him, in another world.  
          “Shimada, seriously.”  
          “We didn’t even make it close, Commander.”  
          “I know that, Genji!” Reyes barked.  
          “Whoa, whoa! Look, no need to get hostile.” McCree said, sitting up and leaning into the center of the table. “Shit happens,” he said to Reyes, “ _including_ dumb mistakes,” swinging to Genji. “But there _will_ be a next time, and now we know better. Alright?”  
          “Fine.” Genji flicked his eyes up to McCree, then back into space.  
          “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” McCree left his crate seat and instead sat on the floor of the van, back to the wall. With his legs stretched in front of him, he tipped his cap over his face and started to doze off.  
           _God,_ her face hurt. Moira gingerly reached up to touch her eye, and Gabe’s hesitance was suddenly understandable. Her eye was massively swollen now, nearly the size of a golf ball. She could only imagine what horrible shade of purple it was turning. The scratches on her face were starting to swell, too, raw and tender to even air brushing past if she moved her head too fast. And she couldn’t even think about missing work - she was barely in her first week at the clinic. Establishing herself, building trusting relationships with her staff, getting to know the flow of things, so many essential tasks that she had to just put on hold.  
          McCree was now fast asleep, and even Genji had his eyes shut, either in sleep or meditation. Even Reyes had kicked back against a wall, propping his feet up on a corner of the table. When he made a small snore, Moira finally gave in. She slipped to the floor, too, leaning back against her crate and letting her eyes slip shut. Maybe getting started on her rest early would get her back to work sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> moira's stuck at home.

          “And a new batch of hires for Overwatch this week! The organization has been hiring across multiple sectors, including medicine, engineering, and weapons development.”  
          “Don’t forget those clerical positions for civilians, Dan, which are a thrilling way for people who don’t want to enlist to get involved in the effort.”  
          The newscasters were so peppy, with Vaseline-toothed smiles and way too much caffeine.  
          “You’ve got that right, Debra. The group is moving into a new phase, what with the Omnic Crisis quickly becoming a nothing more than a memory…”  
          Moira laid on the couch, eyes closed with a bag of frozen vegetables draped over her head. She’d done everything she could, and she was healing very quickly, but she couldn’t bee seen in public quite yet. She shuddered at the thought of the _weeks_ it used to take for a black eye to heal. The wounds on her arms and face were almost completely healed, though, which is really what annoyed Moira the most - for the most part, she wasn’t in any pain. She wasn’t limited by any of her injuries. It was purely cosmetic; such a stupid reason to squander valuable time.  
          She sat up, slowly blinking her eyes open. The swelling was mostly gone by now, but it did ache a fair amount for a few seconds. Waiting for it to subside, she couldn’t push away the nagging feeling she should be doing something. Moira didn’t really have “down time,” she didn’t see a need. Anytime she tried, her mind always floated back to her work anyways.  
          “Fine, fine.” She said aloud. Her time wasn’t going to be a _total_ waste. She’d managed to snag some of the samples she was working on the night before, after the mission. Moira was starting small, refining a topical balm for pain management and wound care, a basic process she’d seen done a million times. In her case, she wanted to make it as potent as possible - if she was basically going to be hurling grenades toward her team for the foreseable future, she wanted to get the most out of them. It was only ten in the morning - she should be deep in her day, seeing veterans and other patients. Gerard had an appointment today, if she remembered correctly.  
          “Over _watch_ might be hiring, but we’re fully staffed on over _cast_ in the skies today.”  
          The newscasters continued to prattle on about the weather and traffic as Moira moved to her kitchen. Overwatch had provided her relocation accomodations, which she was thankful for, but she hadn’t realized it was going to be the bare minimum a single woman would need. An apartment only a few blocks from the Overwatch campus, with one bedroom, one bathroom, a modest living room and kitchen, and a small wooden balcony off the back she didn’t do much with. Back home, she’d had a little more elbow room, with a dedicated home laboratory in an unused bedroom - now, her kitchen was half for food preparation, half for experimentation.  
          “Thanks for that report. We go now to the top headlines. Though the Crisis has been declared over, terrorist sects are starting to take root. Here’s Michael in the field with the story.”  
So it was true. She hoped Gabe wouldn’t have made something up, but she didn’t really want it to be true. They would be battling these con men, power-hungry people trying to seize power in a time of turmoil for their own gain. She pushed the back of her hand against her face to rub an itch on her brow, and hissed as she pressed into the bruise she forgot about. _“That’s right,”_ she thought, _“and I let them get away.”_ That was absolutely killing her - to have failed so badly on her first mission. Failed to assassinate the target, failed to get in the building, failed to provide basic protection, even _failed to save unused equipment_ by dumping all her medic supplies on the ground, completely useless. What a beginning. She sighed. She would bounce back. A rocky start, absolutely, but not irredeemable. At least no one died.  
          “Exactly. _No one_ died.” She laughed at her own joke, which put pressure on her eye again, making her wince.  
          She toiled for hours, creating new mixtures, ripping apart old ones into their component parts. Things were successful to varying degrees to getting the rest of her wounds completely healed. Pulling an experimental recipe designed by Dr. Ziegler herself, as written, didn’t do much - certainly not what Moira was looking for. It wasn’t much better than what was available at a drugstore, in Moira’s opinion, probably in order to be safe. But as she tinkered with values, adding more or less of certain ingredients, she saw wildly different results. One compound she concocted was so powerful that she watched her skin snap together, then recoiled as the scar tissue bubbled up, growing like cancer as her body tried to keep healing. She managed to stop the process before too large of a scar was made, but it was an unfortunate result of self-experimentation. No matter - she had plenty of little scars. She knew it was right when she ran it over a wound, one of the deeper lacerations running long down her forearm currently held together with stitches. Like ribbons in weaving, her skin and muscle reached hundreds and thousands of fibers across and stitched her together again, leaving behind perfect skin that looks as though nothing happened. _This_ was it, it was perfect! There were some additional things she wanted to investigate, sure. It was also a little thick, almost like honey, so now she needed to find a way to dilute it. But this was a breakthrough, a milestone in her research that she was able to reach so quickly because of Overwatch. She scribbled in notebooks, filling in parts of charts and reports she’d been working from. Such a wonderful morning, and she was finally hungry for breakfast, but her kitchen clock told her otherwise - one in the afternoon? How had five hours passed already?  
          Before she could decide if breakfast on a weekday after noon was still “brunch,” her phone rang.  
          “Dr. O’Deorain.”  
          “Hello! It’s Dr. Ziegler - but please, call me Angela.”  
          Moira's eyes went wide.  
          “Oh, of course. What can I do for you?”  
          “I was going to come visit you in the clinic today to see how you are adjusting. I’m so sorry to hear you aren’t feeling well.”  
          “Thank you very much, Doctor - Angela. Probably just something I picked up while traveling, unfortunately.”  
          “Oh, yes, and I’m sure you haven’t been getting enough rest. You don’t look like someone who sleeps much.”  
          Moira cocked her head a little. “Have you been keeping up on me, Dr. Ziegler?”   
          She laughed, and Moira couldn’t help but smile in return. “Of course I have! I care very much about everyone on the team. Are you taking care of yourself? Do you need anything?”  
          “No, I’m quite alright. Just…some nasty bug.” She tried to pull back on her voice and sound weak, even sleepy.  
          “Of course, of course.” Angela was so soothing and understanding, speaking softly but with an electric energy. “Well, you’re a very talented doctor, so I’m sure you know how to handle yourself. But please, Moira, don’t hesitate to ask for _anything_.”  
          “I won’t, I promise. I should be back tomorrow…” Moira eyed her experiments, still unsure if it was going to be the miracle cure she wanted. “The day after, at the latest.”  
          “No problem!” Her instant reassurance washed over Moira like a wave of calm. “Well being comes first. Oh, no -”  
          Moira could hear mechanical beeping in the background, and then a cacophony of shouting voices in the distance. Angela spoke in a hurry.  
          “We have a trauma coming in, looks like my lunch break is a little short today. Talk to you soon!”  
          She hung up before Moira could even take a breath to respond, but it was okay - a trauma patient was usually a soldier straight out of a battle somewhere. In more rural areas, they were as good as dead. Even at Overwatch, trauma patients were hard to treat, with injuries and conditions worsening as weapons of war worsened around them - it was one of the reasons Angela was spending less time in the field and more time in research. Moira hung her head and leaned over her counter - she should _be there_ right now, helping whoever just came in the door. Damn it.  
          Frustrated with the whole situation, she took to cleaning up her lab area. At least she got in a half day’s work, _something_ to show for her time. She imagined what Dr. Ziegler was doing as she capped bottles and rinsed beakers - and _god,_ how she’d love to watch by her side. Just like when she heard her speak, Moira had watched videos of Angela Ziegler perform surgery in record time or resuscitate patients on the very brink of slipping away, but she could only imagine what the real thing was like. She would ask for an update on the trauma patient when she called to check in on the clinic later.  
          She stowed the supplies, neatly organized test tubes in racks, glassware wrapped up, and samples stored to head back to the lab, then looked at the clock again. “Only 30 past…” Fine, she thought - if she was going to throw the rest of the day away, she was going to commit. From the small drink cart just off her counter she pulled a rocks glass and a bottle of whiskey. It was one of the major annoyances she had when moving to Switzerland, and figuring out how to get her favorite Irish whiskey shipped across Europe was a major sticking point for relocation - thankfully, Overwatch always seems to have some strings they can pull. She brought the bottle and the glass to her living room table, pouring herself the first of…two? Maybe three. Moira flipped from channel to channel, sipping her drink a little faster than she meant to in her boredom. As she poured her second, the show she had landed on started up again and caught her eye. It was one of those wedding reality shows, and the Omnic bride of this episode was in the middle of trying on dresses. Moira sat back as she started talking about how hard it had been to get the wedding planned, being an Omnic and human couple. Interesting. And she _did_ look lovely in the dress she had on - but there was another one? Well, Moira _had_ to see what could be better than this one. As the bride-to-be came out in her second dress, Moira looked down to see her second drink half empty again. It was only her second, a third wasn’t going to hurt.  
          It was approaching ten at night when the marathon ended, finally shaking Moira out of her couch locked haze. She’d been watching brides try on dresses for a majority of her day, and had emptied the entire bottle of whiskey hours ago.  
          “ _Great_ use of your brain, O’Deorain.” She scolded herself out loud, sitting up and holding her head in her hands. She rubbed, trying to energize herself even a little. It didn’t work, and she silently accepted the screaming ache on the left side of her face. She looked around the living room - when did she order pizza? Garbage was piling up on the seat cushion next to her, a pizza box, napkins, a handful of soda cans. She stood on unsteady feet and set to cleaning, but not before peeking in the pizza box - of _course_ she hadn’t left any.  
          Suddenly, her phone started ringing. “Shit.” She reached into her pocket, only to find it empty. “An diabhail!” She scanned the countertops near the garbage can, even digging inside the top to make sure she didn’t drop it in. No, no, the sound was coming from behind her, it couldn’t be in the garbage. She continued to scan surfaces and she went back to the living room, looking over the table. It was still ringing, but she couldn’t see it. Under the table? Wasn’t there. In her pocket?  
          “D’fhéach tú ann cheana féin, leathcheann…” she scolded herself.  
          She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes again just as the ringing stopped. Now she’d have to try to backtrack.  
          She turned to the couch, sitting down where she’d been previously, which made it dawn on her - she reached between the cushion on her right, where the garbage pile had previously been, and found her phone. She felt dumb, of _course_ she should have looked between the couch cushions. The screen jumped around her vision as she tried to focus in on it, but she finally saw that the call was coming from the Overwatch clinic.  
          “Oh no, tá brón orm, tá brón orm…” she frantically tried to return the call, pressing over and over in the same spot that _should_ be unlocking her phone. Damn it, the screen went black again. She struggled to click the button that made the lock screen light up again. _God_ , what was wrong with her phone? The notification was still there, and she pressed on it and pressed on it, making it flicker and jump as her phone struggled to understand her drunken inputs.  
          Then the phone started ringing again. Moira nearly dropped it in surprise, but managed to slide the call open.  
          “Heileo.”  
          “Um, yes, hello? Dr. O’Deorain?”  
          “Fuair tú dom…” The woman on the other end sounded _gorgeous._  
          “Moira, is this a joke?” Angela giggled. “I’m covering in the clinic tonight and there’s a note to give you a call. I have a question, though: was that Irish? Ich spreche kein Irisch.  
          “Oh my goodness.” Moira said, letting herself fall to her side, laying on the couch. "It was, indeed. My French is a little rusty, if I'm being honest..."   
          Angela just laughed again. “Français? C'était allemand!"  
          Moira only gave a soft groan in response, her head swimming. "S'il vout plaît, bitte, le do thoil, por favor..."  
          "Don't hurt yourself!" Angela cried with faux concern. "I understand we have something to talk about?”  
          Moira knew she should be more nervous, speaking to Dr. Ziegler again, but her nerves just couldn’t work themselves up at the moment. “Oh, I just wanted a sort of…progress report. An update. You know, since I’m not there to…look after things. So how are things? The things. Going well?”  
          Angela was quiet for a moment. “Moira, are you alright?”  
_“Shit.”_ She thought. _“I thought I was holding it together.”_  
          “Unhöflich!” Angela said through the phone.  
          “That was out loud?” Moira asked. “At least it was in Irish…”  
          “I’ll send someone to check on you, if you need…”  
          “No, no!” Moira said. “Um…I’m alright. Just…resting.” Her ’t’ didn’t come out nearly as clearly as she meant it to, slurring through the last word.  
          Angela yelled into the receiver in a stage whisper. “You’re drunk!”  
          Moira responded, matching her volume. “Why does it matter? I’m not working!”  
          They continued on in their whisper-yelling match. “But you should be _resting!”_  
          “I am! It was an accident!”  
          “Tell me, Dr. O’Deorain, what illness is helped by alcohol?”  
          Moira pulled back to her full voice. “Homesickness.” It was mostly a joke, just to stop the scolding. Angela was quiet for a moment.  
          “…Do you need to talk to someone?” Angela asked, and Moira laughed out loud. “What? Moira, you are a nuisance! I’m being serious!”  
          “Dr. Ziegler, I’m sorry! I’m very sorry!! Really, I promise. This was an accident.”  
          “I sure hope so,” Angela cut in, “considering you just ‘ass-ent,’ and you’re a pretty eloquent person most of the time.”  
          “Yes, precisely.” Angela sighed, and Moira decided to stop trying more than two syllables at a time. “I was feeling better. I got distract - uh, carried away.”  
          “You certainly do sound like you’re feeling better. Should I even brief you over the phone right now or should I just write you a report for the morning?”  
          Moira sighed with relief, rolling onto her back and draping her hand over her eyes. “You’re an absolute angel,” she gushed. “Thank you very much. Uh…danke...thank you…”  
          Angela hummed, considering. "Can't conjure up anymore?"   
          Moira's eyes were shut, and she felt herself getting sleepy. “I got the one that mattered." Realizing she was starting to slip into flirting without realizing, she tried to veer off and change topics. "Oh, and don’t forget trauma.”  
          “The what?”   
          “The trauma. From this afternoon. How did that, uh…how are they doing?”  
          “The trauma, of course! He’s okay - thankfully the only one injured in a poorly planned ambush.”  
          “Oh, good. Well, not _good._ ” Moira started before Angela cut in.  
          “No, no, I know what you mean. Less damage to control.” There was a smile in her voice. There was _always_ a smile in her voice. “But he should make a full recovery. You can read it all in the report I’m typing up right now.”  
          Moira laughed to herself a little. “You’re really so sweet…you don’t have to write reports for me. If anything, I should be reporting in to you.”  
          “Maybe it’s time for bed. You’re not usually this talkative.”  
           _‘Jesus.’_ Moira thought. _‘Maybe I’m not holding myself together…’_  
          “Yes, perhaps you’re right.” Moira said, working overtime to appear as sober as possible. “But truly, thank you for your help. And thank you for using your genius here, with us. You know.”  
           _‘Oops.’_  
          Angela was quiet for a moment, but when she spoke, that smile was still there. At least, Moira thought it was. “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow?”  
          Moira prodded at her face, wincing back from her hand. “Probably…but maybe one more day. I’ll call in the morning.”  
          “Understood.” Angela said. “Then I’ll forward this report to you directly. Now seriously - get to sleep! A hangover will not be an excuse!”  
          “Now that you’ve said that, I _have_ to make it tomorrow.”  
          “Or I’ll just have to come by and make sure you’re not hungover and lying.”  
          “Promise?”   
           _‘Stop!’_ She couldn’t hold her tongue. _‘Just say goodnight!’_  
          “Good night, Angela!” Moira dropped her phone from her head, letting it roll out of reach down the couch.  
          “Lord, I hope that wasn’t half as bad as I thought.” She didn’t bother to move to her room. Moira unbuttoned her shirt and pants, peeling off her jeans. The blanket she kept draped over the back of the couch was the other cover she needed, halfway covering her legs as she sprawled her long limbs out and crashed into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eep exposition stuff is almost over, i promise!! some meaty chapters coming up for the next few weeks.  
> also, is this readable for everyone? i format it like a book because i think it's the most readable, but if it's not super accessible for you let me know!!
> 
>  
> 
> ~~also i love Vodka Aunt Moira but she's Irish, she's clearly a Whiskey Aunt thank you for your time~~
> 
>  
> 
> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> back at work, and assisting dr. zielger for the first time.

          “Dr. O’Deorain, we have someone in room two.” A nurse stood in the doorway to Moira’s office. “It’s a simple medication refill, so I can handle it if you’re busy.”  
          Moira looked up from her computer screens. “Thank you so much. I’d like to introduce myself, since I have the time.”  
          “Great, copy that.” The nurse nodded and left.  
          It might have taken the help of well-placed concealer, but Moira was back at work. She was mostly healed - even Reyes probably wouldn’t have noticed the slight ring of bruising along her cheekbone and brow bone - and she was already happier and less restless than she’d been all week. The clinic had just opened, so she was catching up on paperwork, looking over charts of who had been in in her absence. She flipped to the current calendar.  
          “Oh, Cadet Gill.” She pulled up his chart, dragging it onto a tablet screen that she read as she walked. They’d been introduced once, and he’d told her in passing that he would be in to see her for medication refills - the chart showed simple antidepressants, and he’d been taking them for years. They just needed a signature.  
          “Good morning, Cadet Jonas Gill.” She said as she strode into the exam room and took her seat.  
          “Morning, Dr. O.” He was a fresh-faced, strong young man like any other cadet.  
          “‘Dr. O.’” She repeated, contemplating.  
          “Oh, I didn’t mean to disrespect!” Jonas began backtracking, blushing up his ears like an embarrassed kid. “O…Day-oh-rahn?”  
          Moira softly laughed to herself. “It’s quite alright, Dr. O is acceptable.” She paused. “It’s kind of endearing.” She saw the blood start to leave his face, and continued. “Here for those medication refills you mentioned?”  
          “Yeah!”  
          “No problems with them? Any side effects come up?” She looked at his chart again - it looked like he was in the clear.  
          “Nah. I think I’ve already been through that phase,” and he laughed darkly to himself, .  
          Moira smiled back. “It’s always good to check.” With that, she scribbled out the prescription on her tablet, whizzing it off to the pharmacy to be filled.  
          “Thanks, Dr. O.” He slid down from the exam table and extended his hand. Moira shook it firmly.  
          “Of course. The pharmacy should have that ready in a few minutes.” She double checked his file on her tablet. “And it is currently for six months’ worth - come back and see us if you have any other problems.”  
          “You got it.” Jonas smiled warmly, then went back out into the lobby.  
          It was an absurdly short appointment that gave her a fair amount of time left over for herself, so she went back to her office, nodding politely to the nurses chatting in their station. From her week of experience here and what she’d gathered listening to others, it was usually like this - the clinic was privately for use of Overwatch members and their families. The size of a small hospital, they had well-regulated emergency services that mostly saw to soldiers coming back from missions, like the trauma case Dr. Ziegler handled the other night. Moira oversaw that department, as well, but she mostly spent her time on higher, calmer floors. Even here, the nurses did most of the work, and she was there in case of emergencies. Normally, it would be a gargantuan task for just one director to maintain and keep up with, but with the limited clientele they saw and the attention to detail they were afforded, she was settling in just fine.  
          As she returned to her office, from down the hall came Captain Amari, in uniform with her helmet tucked under her arm.  
          “Oh, good morning Captain. What brings you up here?” Her confusion was apparent on her face, but Ana had only her usual unflappable calm.  
          “Dr. O’Deorain!” Amari smiled. “I need to speak to you, actually.”  
          Moira motioned the captain into her office and moved around her desk to sit, slinging her high-collared lab coat over her chair. “Anything I can assist you with?”  
          “No, no, nothing like that. We’re headed off in about an hour - espionage, should be fine. I already alerted the emergency units downstairs.” Her completely nonchalant attitude was the only reassuring part of the briefing Moira suddenly found herself in. Ana spoke like she was describing a trip to the store or a nice dinner - Moira admired bravery like that. “You know how your call button works, right?” Amari asked, gesturing to the round hard light projector set into her desk corner.  
          “When I am needed, my call button is pressed in that area of the clinic. My receiver here will then show me where the signal came from.” Moira said. “I’ve yet to see it in action.”  
          “Well, I hope today is not that day.” Ana responded with a black smile. “Perfect! Well, have a great afternoon. If all goes well, we’ll see you around dinner time.” The captain gave a small bow, then turned to go.  
          “Best of luck!” Moira called after. She’d been briefed on that protocol before - luckily, Overwatch agents were top of the line and usually didn’t have much need for her or her staff. As she was settling back in to her computer and finding her place in the files, her desk phone rang.  
          “Hello?”  
          “Good morning, Dr. O’Deorain. Are you busy today?” It was Dr. Ziegler. She immediately forgot about the charts and smiled as she leaned her head against her propped up fist.  
          “Not quite. I do need to be on call in about an hour.”  
          “That’s right, shoot. Any chance I could borrow you for that time? Unless you have something important you’re working on.”  
          “Nothing more important than you, Dr. Ziegler. As long as you pay back the time you borrow. I might be able to get a good interest rate.” Moira almost melted when she heard Angela’s snicker on the other end, her heart leaping into her throat.  
          “I’m sure we can find a deal that makes the both of us happy. See you down here! I’m on the third floor!” Angela hung up the call, and Moira practically leapt out of her seat. She pulled her lab coat back on, and made sure to pull her eyepiece from her desk. A portable tablet screen also attached to her call button, the small lens would be able to alert her if anyone should need her. She set it in place along her head as she stepped back to the nurses’ station.  
          “Dr. Zielger has asked for me in her labs. I’ll return within the hour.”  
          The nurses gave various affirmatives, then went back to their conversations. Moira hustled down the hallways, the few flights of stairs, and out into the main Overwatch campus.  
          It was a huge, multi-acre complex that housed all the various Overwatch departments. On one end, aerospace and flight with hangars and runways and helipads, staffed by tireless engineers. Training facilities and small labs, areas to monitor and test new cadets and agents, spaces to run drills and simulations, and areas where agents readied up before missions were all housed there, and it was always buzzing with people coming and going. There was the medical wing, with her building as a centerpiece to other specialists. She walked quickly, avoiding carts transporting people between the buildings on a shuttle loop. Her destination wasn’t far - research and labs, just outside of the medical complex, where the real detail work of design and technology happened. Moira was thrilled to get the chance to take a hands-on look at some of the work inside, _especially_ with Dr. Ziegler.  
          She breezed through the doors, which slid open to a wall of disinfectant smell. The building almost felt like the hospital - the same sterile white, populated by others in lab coats carrying tablets and wheeling carts around one another, only the patients were missing. She tried to look like she knew exactly where she was going, careful to only peer around with her eyes until she found the elevators. Moira was waiting alongside a motley team of scientists, including a withered elderly woman no taller than five feet and a gangly intern still scarred from acne who shuffled nervously between his feet. They all took the elevator, off to different floors, and Moira swore she heard one of them sigh in awe when they saw who was waiting to greet her.  
          “You found me!” Angela said as the doors slid open. Moira stepped off and Angela immediately took the lead back to her lab. “I knew giving you directions from there would have been too hard, which is why I picked you up at the elevator.”  
          She was right - unlike the clinic, this building was an anthill of turns and corners and crossroads. Through the small windows in each door, Moira could see teams working over microscopes and tables, filling out charts and taking photographs, mixing things into fluids over heat and watching in suspense. “I didn’t know it was quite so…bustling over here.”  
          “Of _course!”_ Angela was emphatic, turning to face Moira as she stopped at her door. “You think medical is the only field we’re applying research?” She scoffed, unlocking her lab. “Don’t be silly.”  
          Moira dropped her head to hide her smile, feigning embarrassment. “I should take some time to get better acquainted.”  
          “You can do that some other time. You’re mine today,” Angela tossed over her shoulder as she strode back to her desk to gather her things.  
          Moira took a deep breath and pretended to be preoccupied with some samples set out on a lab table. She vaguely remembered her bad, inebriated flirting from the night before - but there was definitely a chance Dr. Ziegler hadn’t even noticed anything questionable. She knew that she _wanted_ Angela to be flirting with her - was anything she’d said today flirting? Moira kept reminding herself that no, Dr. Ziegler was just a friendly, engaging person. She was beloved for that by everyone, so Moira wasn’t special. Of _course_ there’s infatuation, but it was pointless - and she would never want to jeopardize her arrangements for work and research.  
           _“Just appreciative banter.”_ She thought. It felt inane even devoting time to thinking about it, _dissecting_ small comments made like a teenager.  
          Dr. Ziegler returned with a stack of papers and her tablet, spreading notes out on the table in front of her and setting up her tablet to stand on it’s own. Moira stood next to her, taking a cursory glance. It was research, pages upon pages of chemical equations, notes about reactions both in vitro and in human testing.  
           _“A suitable distraction.”_ Moira couldn’t resist a puzzle like this.  
          “I don’t know where exactly the problem is, which is why I’ve collected everything. I’m trying to create a…hmm, the closest to a magic health potion as possible, I suppose.”  
          “Oh?” Moira didn’t quite understand. “No offense, Dr. Ziegler, but you already have effective ways of supporting those in fights. What do you need with this?”  
          Angela nodded excitedly. “That’s a good question! Ideally, this will be more gaseous - something that can reach separated and distant allies, or a ton of people at once. We can cover our troops better, and especially reduce civilian casualties in many situations. That’s where you come in. As you can see here….” She pulled out a set of samples, and Moira thought they looked shockingly similar to what she had been producing yesterday. “While I’m happy with how this works, it’s basically a syrup.” Angela unscrewed a lid, and the solution stretched up and dripped like honey. “What can we change about it? I’ve tried everything I can think of, and I can’t make it work without sacrificing something else about it, especially potency.”  
          Remarkable - she’d somehow gone down an almost identical route. As she looked over Dr. Ziegler’s notes, she saw remnants of her own steps, old ingredients she’d since phased out as well, reactions that they both expected to go one way that went a disastrous other. She skimmed, familiar with the problems Dr. Ziegler mentioned and ruling out changes she’d clearly already tried. It was later in her notes that Moira found an opening, something that differed from her own process, and she pointed it out. She did, however, decide to keep the fact her knowledge was gleaned from person experiments a secret for the time being - best not to raise any more questions than necessary.  
          The two worked for the full hour Moira had. It was only her eyepiece ringing, an alert that an Overwatch unit was taking off, that pulled her focus from the large beaker in front of her.  
          “Oh, no. Time to leave?” Angela said, pushing stray bangs back from her face with the back of her gloved hand.  
          Moira sighed, focused on what she was working. “Nearly. Just enough time to…”  
          They had synthesized a new mixture, combining Angela’s research with some “brilliant, sudden ideas” from Moira, and O’Deorain was vigorously stirring their final draft. “Now,some heat.” She clicked on the burner beneath and they waited with bated breath.  
          “Moira, if this works…” Angela was leaning in closer and closer, craning as if staring hard enough would make the solution do what they wanted. She was so close - it was only now Moira realized she’s probably been working this close the whole time. Her nerves suddenly caught up to her, and she willed her heart to stay still. Angela was enough that Moira could smell her perfume, even their lab coats’ edges brushed along their legs -  
          “Oh, sorry.” Angela muttered and stepped a few inches away, never pulling her focus from the beaker.  
           _‘Of course, Moira.’_ She kept her eyes on it, too, hoping Dr. Ziegler wouldn’t look up in time to see her blushing. What a way to get her hopes up - was she actually a child? This was work. Commander Reyes’ warning came back to her.  
           _“We don’t_ get _to be friends.”_  
          Moira took in another deep breath just as the mixture suddenly popped, puffing a small amber cloud out of the top. Angela inhaled in surprise next to her, and suddenly Moira felt as if the world was moving a little bit slower around her, but _she_ was moving with speed and precision. She looked at Angela, who was staring up at her, beaming.  
          “Look at it!” She practically squealed, and Moira did - the solution was rapidly turning into a soft powder, almost like talc, that puffed up and spread out through the syrup. Soon, the entire beaker was powder, a perfect golden dust. Just the small sample that Moira got, and she was ready to do _anything_. She felt better than she’d ever felt in her life - more clear, more awake, more aware. She looked back over their work - o _f course_ the answer they landed on was the right one. Now, she could see it was obvious where their mistakes had been, and what they needed to add and omit. She wondered if this could help her get other things done, how efficient she would be at getting through the blocks in her own research.  
          “Dr. Ziegler, this could be addictive.” Moira stated.  
          “Indeed. Which is why we’ll be keeping it safe right here, and only using it as directed by _me.”_ She immediately started gathering and sealing, putting the substance away and tagging it properly for storage. “But thank you, Dr. O’Deorain. Your help was absolutely _invaluable!_ Now that I know how to produce this, I can make as much as we need - and as soon as further testing is done, we can get it out! Oh, the possibilities!!” Angela lit up and was talking with more and more excitement - it was probably somewhat due to the drugs, but Moira knew this is the kind of breakthrough Angela _lived_ for. It was why she did her job. Find the absolute best ways to care for people, and if she could make people feel like Moira did right now, she was doing something right.  
          “I have _incredible_ energy…what am I supposed to do with myself?”  
          “Oh, don’t wish too hard.” Angela warned. “You do have a unit on the field right now. But you’re right, it’s…quite a lot. I didn’t realize it was going to do that, we should have been wearing masks…”  
          Moira looked at her sideways. “You think it’s dangerous?”  
          Angela jumped to assure her quickly, “Of course not. But testing-”  
          “We’re testing it right now. I’m not afraid of it.” Moira said. She leaned back against the table, crossing her arms easily over her chest. She meant it - so far, nothing alarming. It wasn’t a shaky, disjointed amphetamine high, or an uncontrollable steroid rush. She’d given herself _far_ worse side effects in experiments.  
          “I’m not ‘afraid’ of anything.” Dr. Ziegler said, leaning against the table with her hand on her hip, annoyed. “But this isn’t the way things are done.”  
          “Right.” Moira agreed. “It’s not proper. But it happened, no point in letting it go to waste.”  
          “What do you mean?”  
          Moira stood, straightening up her lab coat. “I have to go back to the clinic now, just in case.” She tapped her eyepiece - still nothing from the field. “I’ll keep notes on my experiences for you. You should do the same - well, not to trade with me or anything, but -”  
          Finally, Angela cracked a smile again. “I understand what you mean. I think that’s a good idea - and you’re already in the clinic if your heart suddenly stops.”  
          Moira openly rolled her eyes at the notion, then turned to leave. “Oh, before I go-” she said, turning back on her heel. “Is there any way I can borrow some more test tubes and racks from you? We had a clumsy intern break some this morning, I’ll return them first thing tomorrow.”  
          Angela was happy to oblige, and flitted out of the room to collect the requested supplies. When she was alone, Moira pulled up her own tablet, opening the camera. Only one week in and it was starting to bother her less and less to blatantly lie to Angela like that. Moira snapped photos of the notes, collecting the exact recipe, the notes about problems they ran into, alterations to check for, all the vital information. It wasn’t exactly _wrong_ , what she was doing. Angela would still be the only one administering it to anyone in Overwatch. But Moira thought it should be her job to make sure this made it’s way into Blackwatch, too - and it was better for everyone this way, a little in the dark about all the details.  
          The door swung open and the gentle tinkling clatter of glass alerted her. She’d gotten everything she needed, and she returned to the beaker and feigned finalizing notes just as Angela was reentering with a box of tubes.  
          “I greatly appreciate it, thank you so much.” She met Angela at the door, taking the box from her and sidling past to exit to the hall.  
          “Anytime! I’ll make sure to call if I need any more help.” Angela leaned in the doorway, huffing. “Dang, moving to research has me out of shape!” She giggled again, then gave Moira the brightest smile. “Good luck in the clinic today!”  
          Moira could only smile and wave goodbye with her free hand, heading off down the hall. She mostly remembered the way out, stopping only once to ask for directions back to the elevator. When she turned down one empty hallway with a cart sitting outside a door, she dropped off the box of test tubes. No point actually lugging them back down to the clinic. She silently apologized to whoever she just annoyed with that extra chore as she pushed the call button and an elevator opened almost immediately, taking her back down to the first floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo! again, apologies for seriously bungling everything about mercy's language in the last chapter and thanks to the friends who pointed it out and pointed me in more correct directions. 
> 
> some medication positivity? some soft moira? some good good butterflies in the tummy? what DOESN'T this chapter have??? 
> 
> also i put my social links in every chapter but i'd like to specifically plug my [cosplay patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay) i'm starting - if you want queer, offbeat cosplay by a ~~cool~~ nonbinary lesbian, considering supporting me! i'm shooting my first set soon and my insta has the tiniest preview ~~it's defo moira so come buy some moira lingerie pics~~
> 
>    
> anyway thanks again y'all, every time i see another kudos or bookmark my face just lights up ♡  
>    
> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a make-up mission.

          Her stomach was in knots as she made a few last minute adjustments to her new setup. Back in that shitty, cheap van, Moira was fine-tuning the new delivery system she developed for the powdery, airborne healing solution.  
          “What are you workin’ on there?” Jesse asked, peering over the table. Reyes perked up, too, looking from the maps he was examining.  
          “Did you do something to Amari’s packs?” Gabe asked, and Moira shook her head.  
          “A new creation from late last week - it works wonderfully. What I have here…” she pulled away from the metal and tubing she was working with, displaying it for her teammates. “ _This_ should be a way to get healing technology to those in need. Connected to the packs of solution I’m wearing,” she said, gesturing to the backpack of large canisters on her back, “this gauntlet will fire when I press with the heel of my hand.” While it was an explanation to her teammates, it was definitely another chance for Moira to run through her checklist - was everything finished? Was it going to work correctly? She’d done everything she could, but she couldn't help turning it over once more in her hands..  
          “Very…science fiction.” Genji appeared behind Moira, tapping gently on the canisters.  
          “Perhaps.” Moira responded with a wave off. “I might have modeled it after some…. _ideas_ from popular media, ideas that I believe will be the most effective.”  
          “I think it’s neat,” said McCree. “Does it hurt?”  
          Moira laughed, despite herself. “That would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?”  
          “It looks familiar, is the thing.” She didn’t notice how intensely Gabe had been staring at it. “It’s Overwatch tech, for sure.”  
          Moira swallowed. “It is, indeed.”  
          “Well, if it’s not Amari’s, what is it? Something from Winston?” He was getting frustrated, speaking harsh with a quick clip.  
          She felt scolded, so she steeled her jaw and glared back. “It is of _my own_ creation. You hired me because I’m capable, or did you forget?”  
          Suddenly, Reyes reached across the table and picked up the part of her rig for her hand. She cried out and grasped after it as he examined the metal up close.  
          “This is Angela’s!” He roughly slid it back in disgust. “How did you get that? What the _fuck_ did you tell her to get access to that?” He slammed his hands up on the table, pushing over and almost getting in Moira’s face.  
          “Whoa, whoa now…” Finally shaking off his stunned silence, Jesse tried leaning in between the two.  
          “Thank you McCree, but I’d be _happy_ to answer!” Moira snapped, sending Jesse reeling away from mediating. “It was actually your _precious_ Dr. Ziegler that called _me_ in for help, and I took it upon myself to _perfect_ this for Blackwatch.” She pushed up, leaning in fearlessly to meet Reyes nose to nose. “Nothing revealed, nothing leaked, just a brilliant doctor you’d be best not to question the abilities of again.” She spat, holding her ground and staring daggers back at the Commander.  
          His nostrils flared and she could see the muscles of his jaw clench and unclench as he thought of something to say.  
          “So you’re just gonna spray us down?” Reyes asked.  
          “Sure, in one sense.”  
          Reyes shrugged. “We’ll try anything once, I guess. If it works better for you, I don’t care how you get it to us.” He turned his attention back to his map, sitting down and laying it out across the table. With the edge, he slid Moira’s work into her lap . She was a taken aback, scrambling to keep anything from falling to the floor, but she was basically finished so she set to getting everything put on.  
          “Now let’s talk about tonight. We’re _not_ gonna do what we did last time.”  
          "Save your asses when you get tied up?” Jesse said, smirking. The team looked at him with annoyance.  
          “We’re not going to _split up._ It’s what left us vulnerable to those traps. Luckily, this is a backup for them - an abandoned hideout blown out during the crisis, so it shouldn’t be nearly as fortified.”  
          “Hold on - how do we know this…mysterious leader figure is even here?” Moira cut in.  
          “Does not seem safe.” Genji added. “To leave him so vulnerable?”  
          “They don’t know we know about this one.” Gabe answered. “They think _we_ believe he’s just hunkering down, fortifying. Recon watched his transport to this location, we know for certain he’s inside.”  
          “That’s another thing - you still haven’t told us who this guy is.” Jesse said. “I don’t usually like knowing too much about marks, about this one seems kind of important.”  
          Gabe just shook his head. “Need to know basis.”  
          “We’re a specialized team that acts outside of the law and we’re _still_ not important enough to know?” Moira was incredulous. She was thinking the same thing - why so much secrecy?  
          "No, you’re not!” Gabe snapped, shutting down any further discussion. “ _None_ of us are! We’re just another unit to Morrison, and you’re asking for answers _I_ don’t even have, okay?” His face got dark, and he quickly turned his stare to the map on the table.  
          “Sorry,” he continued, calmer but straining to maintain. “I’m trying not to…’take my anger out on others,’ as Amari says.”  
          “It’s alright…” Jesse was genuine, placing the back of his fist against Reyes’, a less affectionate kind of hand hold.  
          “Speak for yourself.” Moira said, rolling her eyes.  
          “Is something wrong, Commander?” Genji asked.  
          “Just…clashing of heads among the higher ups. Doesn’t matter.”  
          The van was quiet for a moment, just the road humming beneath them as Reyes was lost in thought. Moira didn’t feel bad for yelling at him - his problems didn’t mean he could accuse her of absolute nonsense. She did have a little pity and understanding for feeling left in the dark, however. Many times in her life, she'd been the peon, the throwaway that was  _technically_ on the team but was never treated like an actual member. With the outburst Reyes had, she wondered how close to the truth she was hitting.  
          "So we just don’t know. Whatever.” Jesse’s flippant attitude was back, trying to get a laugh. “As long as I get the right one, that’s all that matters.”  
          “Right. Which shouldn’t be hard to figure out.” Reyes popped back to life, as if he was just remembering he was in the middle of something.  
          “So is there a new plan of attack?” Moira asked, her tone softer. “I like the tactic of staying together.”  
          “Yes, we’ll stick together, which makes sense with where we’re going. It’s an abandoned warehouse.” He pointed their attention to the schematic on the table. “We’re going to be entering here. We have to make it through these racks, which should provide ample cover from any kind of guards, and on the other side is where he’s being held.”  
          “What are we lookin’ at, in terms of security?” Jesse asked.  
          “Minimal.” Gabe nodded, pointing out key spots they’d need to watch for. “We’ve spotted guards here, here, and here - it’s safe to assume there’s plenty more all along the perimeter, up on a catwalk. Thankfully, that’s about it. Most of his detail is still set up at the main base as a decoy.”  
          “Just seems…strange.” Genji chimed in again.  
          “He’s a paranoid recluse, of course he does strange things.” Reyes waved him off, rolling up the schematics and stowing them.  
          As he did, the van rolled to a stop. Just like before, the team climbed out and found ground. They were deep in another part of the forest, on the only road that disappeared only a few feet ahead into dense trees.  
          “Damn, this is even _creepier!_ ” Jesse was genuinely displeased, and he pulled his shawl closer around his shoulders.  
          Reyes dismissed the van, then addressed the team. “Well, at least there’s no hiking this time. Follow me." The four, decked in black, slipped between the shadows of the trees and toward their target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, it finally happened. i'm late. however, it was late because i shot my moira cosplay set!!! previews are up on my cosplay twitter and instagram, and lingerie photos are going to be available on patreon. 
> 
> anyway, because i didn't want people to be waiting too long and to say sorry, here's a mini-chapter now and i'll post a second mini-chapter either later this weekend! two chapter week! 
> 
> thanks for your continued love!! 
> 
> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blackwatch mission number two, with new technology. can they finish what they started?

          A quartet of shadows, bogeymen that drifted between trees. Reyes took the lead, flanked by McCree and Shimada. O’Deorain watched their backs. They stayed in a tight formation, stepping carefully and gingerly, taking the time to avoid even the smallest twig that could crack under foot. Only when Reyes held up a hand and crouched low to the brush did they stop, following him down.  
          “We’re here.” He hummed, just above a whisper. Through the trees ahead, they could see a clearing. On the other side, almost like the cave, was the entrance to a warehouse. Unlike the cave, however, it wasn’t surrounded by miles of stone - just like the schematics had shown, there was an entrance to theback left of the building, lit by a single, flickering overhead lamp.  
          Reyes gestured to it. “Stick to the tree line. We enter from the east side. He’s hiding on the south. We cross the room…” he said, cutting a line horizontally through the building with his fingers. “Then go straight back.” Holding form and focus, they skated through the trees until the door was just ahead, a few feet through the trees across a clear cut space. Absolute _death_ if there was a sniper or cameras.  
          “Are we sure there’s no one around? No security?” McCree asked, more than a little skeptical.  
          “I saw no one. Jesse, let’s look ahead.” Genji dashed on the way they’d been going with McCree jogging in tow.  
          “You ready, Moira?” Reyes asked, still crouched low to the ground.  
          “Absolutely,” she said, quickly, trying to crush the nerves welling in her stomach. “I just hope our intel was better this time.”  
          Reyes almost rolled his eyes, but caught himself and sighed hard through his nose instead. “Yeah, well…Morrison assures me it is.” He cleared his throat, and Moira gave him the courtesy of looking away, pretending to be interested in something on the ground. _“What an ego…Men in power…”_ Whatever the situation was, it was clearly someone tripping over too much -  
          “Looks like the coast is clear.” McCree said, rolling elegantly back into the two in hiding. Genji was close behind, perched up in a tree.  
          “You were right - minimal security. No one outside.” He said, not bothering to keep his voice so low. “We did not see lights on inside, either.”  
          “Yeah, it looks like these back racks are empty, too!” Jesse repeated excitedly.  
          Reyes smirked. “Then let’s roll.”  
          Instinctively staying low, the four crept out of the trees and crossed the threshold into the open.  
          “Genji, get that lock off.” Reyes barked in a whisper. Genji nodded, and as the other three flanked the door, he slid his impossibly sharp blade into the old-style keyhole, ruining the pins and popping open the locking mechanism. He opened the door, and welcomed the team in ahead of him with a bow. Jesse chuckled, and Moira even let a smirk cross her lips as well.  
          The others’ scouting was correct - the lights were off inside. “No one home?” Jesse whispered to the others.  
          “Seems pretty empty.” Moira still had her guard up, her head on a swivel for errant guards doing rounds in the dark.  
          “Shouldn’t be anyone but essentials.” Gabe assured them. “Intel indicates most low-ranking members of the group don’t even know he’s moved.”  
          With that, he put a finger to his lips. The four fell completely silent again, creeping between the racks as a murky amalgam. They moved effortlessly, encountering no one else. Even through taped up cardboard boxes that filled the tall metal shelves around them, no other footsteps or voices reached them.  
          “You weren’t joking when you said there wasn’t anyone here…” Jesse mused.  
          Finally, they reached the door into the main part of the building.  
          “I don’t know that this is the best way in…” Gabe stopped himself just in front of the door, hovering over the handle.  
          “That’s the only way we should run into any trouble, right? Probably not the best idea to waltz in the front door…” Jesse offered.  
          Moira piped up. “Isn’t this a ‘back door?’ Nothing has indicated they’re even watching this area.”  
          “There.” Before the rest could even turn to him, Genji zipped up to a higher door, up on the second story catwalk level. “Can we split up now?” he gestured across the room, to another catwalk entrance across the room. They could have one pair on the north side and one pair on the south side, providing coverage and eyes to what’s below. Jesse and Moira looked to Reyes, who nodded.  
          “McCree, come with me.” Reyes and McCree broke off into a jog to the other side. Moira hurried up the ladder against the wall the join Genji. It was a shaky metal grate, meant to overlook the main general area and connect the closed doors that probably contained offices or supply closets - with the guard railing, Moira could conjure up the antiquated image of factory workers sweating over work benches as a foreman stood up here, staring down his nose at them. However, that meant it wasn’t a guard post, and it _definitely_ wasn’t for fighting. Moira was trying to convince herself they had the element of surprise, they had every advantage, _certainly_ no one was going to fall off the catwalk, plummeting to injuries she couldn’t help with…  
          Once in position, Reyes signaled Genji and Moira, a “follow my lead” gesture, and the four fell into position behind the doors, ready to face whatever waited for them in the main room. Moira tightened and loosened her fist once, just testing her packs in a short burst - she felt the warm solution on her hand, which quickly evaporated and left behind a cool, invigorating sensation. Perfect. She was as ready as she was going to be.  
          Reyes signaled to move ahead, and everything started moving in slow motion. Moira followed close behind Genji as the doors swung open, and he flew into the room in a flash. She kept Reyes and McCree in her periphery as she stormed ahead, catching up with Genji just as the second guard on their side noticed what was happening.  
          The other side of the room was not having as much luck - shots cracked through the silent warehouse, and Reyes yelled.  
          “Moira!” He hollered. She looked across the way and saw Reyes clutching his head in one hand, firing wildly with the gun he hadn’t dropped. She looked to Genji, who was deftly dispatching the second guard and decided to go, sprinting down the catwalk to Reyes. As she approached, she raised her hand into position and pressed, releasing fine golden dust in a spray in front of her.  
          “Holy shit!” Jesse cried from the other end of the catwalk, seeing Moira’s technology in action. As a proud smile began to form on her face, though, the spray stopped.  
          “What on Earth?” She’d just barely reached Reyes. Closer now, she could see he took a scatter shot to the head. Blood pooled up and dripped from between his fingers, soaking his glove and sleeve.  
          “Come on, let’s go!” He growled, grabbing onto the rail next to them unsteadily.  
          She pressed down again. Nothing. “I’m trying!” She knew better, but she couldn’t help but panic and press wildly on the trigger. Nothing was coming out, and she couldn’t tell why.  
          “Moira…” He was angry, but his voice was weak, betraying him.  
          "God, please!” She pressed, and her rig began sputtering back to life. She kept on, hoping it would just work out whatever it needed to, _please_ just work out whatever is in the way…  
          Doors below them burst open, and the footsteps of dozens of heavy boots smashed into the room. “Up there!” One man shouted, and the four of them froze.  
          “You said there wasn’t anyone else!” McCree screamed at Reyes, livid.  
          “I didn’t _fucking_ think there was! Can we go, Moira?!” Gabe was hysterical, as much as he could muster. As Moira sat, stunned at the appearance of this crisis, she didn’t notice the metal heating up in her hands until it had began searing a circle in her palm. She shrieked, pulling her hand back and flipping it over to look - yes, the delivery mechanism had been jammed, but holding it running had made it overheat, creating an accidental branding iron.  
          Tears welled up against her will from the pain, and Reyes noticed. “What happened? Did it break? _Fuck,_ Moira!” he pushed himself up, shaky. The footsteps were getting closer, coming around and up the stairs to meet them. They had to get out.  
          “Watch your head!” Across the room, Genji’s shout rang out, and Moira and Reyes hit the deck, narrowly avoiding fire from a trooper that was taking aim from the floor level. In a second, Genji was by their side, poised to protect them from the onslaught on the other side of the doors they’d come through. “Fix it! Come on!” He threw over his shoulder.  
          “Like I didn’t think to do that!” The pain was _unbearable -_ it was tender, exposed flesh that moved almost constantly, pulling at the edges of the burn, but she clenched her jaw and continued to work. She could see the problem almost immediately, kicking herself for not taking a _second_ to think calmly. It was a jam she could clear in seconds. The whole problem could have been avoided - she would not make this mistake again.  
          As she was finishing her repairs, the doors slammed open once more and a hail of bullets rained down. Moira turned to her side, shielding Reyes with her body, but Genji made sure not a single shot touched them. As they huddled, she tested her machinery by coating her burnt hand. The bloody ring slowly closed over. She clenched and unclenched her hand, feeling no pain - “I’m ready!”  
          In a second, she had everything back in place and was coating Reyes’ head. He was bleeding _a lot_ , and there wasn’t anything she could do about what he’d lost, but she could get it to stop and give him the boost he needed to get them out. He unnaturally sprang to his feet, soaked in blood but full of vigor and energy again.  
          “Where’s McCree?” he asked. Where _was_ McCree? She looked around - he wasn’t on the end of the catwalk, where he’d been. Did they get him somehow? Just as more panic started to grip at her chest, from the other corner of the room came a huge, joyous, “Yee haw!”  
          McCree was poised, standing on railing to get the most height. “I guess midnight’s just as good as noon!” He fired into the area below them, then expertly retrained his gun on the horde that had just arrived - he shot through two heads, a shoulder, three heads, a chest, mowing down as many as he could with each bullet. The guards that remained were stunned, giving him just a second to use his last bullet to bust out one of the windows on their side. “I’ll see y’all out there!” he called to them before jumping to the floor below, landing with a graceful roll.  
          “Let’s move!” Reyes called, and the three took off to the window. Guards were quick on their heels, though, falling in behind them just seconds later. They watched the three jump from the window, but when they reached the ledge and looked down, the team was nowhere to be seen.  
          “They couldn’t have made it to the trees so fast!” One theorized.  
          “Did they grow wings and fly away?” Another sniped.  
          “Uh, guys…” One guard in the back pulled their attention as he looked over the catwalk railing to the floor below. “I think we have a bigger problem…boss don’t look too good…”  
          Beneath them, laying in a puddle of black goo, was their boss. A powerful Omnic, but he was no match for the bullet that pierced his head, shattering his face into shards.  
          Up on the roof, Moira, Reyes, and Genji crept as quietly as they could. “The van will be back by the time we get there, we just gotta make it to the trees.” Reyes assured them.  
          “And McCree will meet us there?” Genji asked.  
          “I sure as hell hope so.”  
          As they reached the other side of the building, nearly to the trees they needed to escape to, they heard a whistle from down below. They scrambled to hit the deck, fearing they’d been spotted, but a familiar voice called up. “Whoa, I was just tellin’ y’all the ladder’s over here.”  
          “Thank God…” Moira sighed in relief. He _had_ made it out. They rejoined their teammate on the ground, quickly dashing across the open space and into the trees to get distance between them and the hideout and eventually, back to safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's that second chapter! this ended up being full length, so thanks again for hanging in with my tardiness! 
> 
> also, atm, we're three chapters away from the first of the sexual content (more chapters could be added and already have been from my original outline so please don't hold your breath) but it's coming! just giving heads up either to get y'all excited or ready to avoid. any chapters with sexual content will have notes at the beginning. so y'know, whatever floats ya boat. 
> 
> see y'all on wednesday! and remember, if you wanna support this queerio, please find me on social media! i'm also doing a GREAT deal with my patreon for my first cosplay set so consider celebrating this pride month by paying this gay.
> 
> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> post mission with cadet oxton.

          Moira strode into the clinic, a to-go mug of coffee in her left hand with her right firmly tucked in her lab coat pocket. It was another Monday, despite how she had spent her weekend. After the assassination mission they somehow completed, she realized her injuries were a little worse than she thought. She’d done what she could, but adrenaline had pushed the pain out of her way and kept her from noticing she’d tore her hand open again. By the time she could tend to it, including a pitstop at the Overwatch headquarters, the neat circle was more like a jagged, painful bite from some strange beast and would need time to heal. It was wrapped up at the moment, but showing up with an injury like that usually invited questions - even though she knew her coworkers had polite intents, it was easier to keep her hand out of sight.  
          “Good morning, I’ll be in the lab.” She greeted the nurses, who were settling in and gearing up for the day at their station. They waved or gave polite hellos in response, and she continued past them deeper into the building, stopping in her office for only a second to retrieve the broken equipment. Down the hall, past the exam rooms was a small lab - nothing at _all_ in comparison to the labs in the research complex, but it provided clear workspaces and basic equipment.  
          Moira was determined to discern why the jam had occurred. The mixture had gone all gummy again in a way she _thought_ she had prevented. Sliding a pair of safety goggles over her eyes, she set to work dismantling parts and examining everything. Moira was meticulous, scanning over every inch, taking the time to test and retest each and every component - clearly, this was a problem she’d easily overlooked, but it wouldn’t be overlooked today. It was this focus that kept her from noticing the door to the lab open, and she seized in surprise when there was a knock in the door jamb.  
          “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”  
          Moira spun around and met eyes with Cadet Oxton.  
          “I’m really sorry. Uh….” She rocked back on her heels and looked at the ground, blushing. “I’m Lena, or, uh, Cadet-”  
          “Oxton. I remember.” She was finally untensing. “It’s quite alright.” Moira set her work aside, pulling her goggles off her face and letting them hang about her neck. “What are you doing back here?”  
          “Oh, the nurses said it was alright!” Lena immediately took the tone of a scolded child. “I didn’t mean to-”  
          “No, no.” Moira paused her, gently extending her palm forward. “What are _you_ doing _back here_? This isn’t where doctor visits happen, so you’re not sick or injured. What do you need?”  
          Lena raised an eyebrow, a confused half-smirk pulling at her lips. “Oh, okay…yeah, I was hoping you could help me with my accelorator.”  
          Moira waved her into the lab, pushing her gauntlet rig off to another counter. “I’d love to take a look, actually.” Lena stood next to her at the counter.  
          “Well, it’s not working quite right at the moment…that’s the problem.”  
          “Of course.”  
          Lena presented the chronal accelerator to Moira. “So, right here, this is supposed to connect to this mechanism-” she started pointing out pieces and joints, metallic workings that kept it together.  
          “Lena, I - may I call you Lena?”  
          The cadet nodded, a little taken aback at the question.  
          “Lena, I’m flattered you came to me, but I’m a doctor. This isn’t really my area of specialty. You’ll probably want someone in research.” Moira started to turn her attention back to her gauntlet, hungry to get it working, but Lena stopped her.  
          “No, I know that! Winston is going to have to fix all of those things, but he’s off at a watchpoint.” Lena explained, pulling Moira’s attention back. “Captain Amari recommended I come to you, because the problem is healing. Usually, I can keep myself going with the help of this little guy…” she said, tapping the accelerator. “But with her out of conmmission, I haven’t been doing….uh, my _best_ in drills. Enough that the captain is worried about it. Do you think there’s some way you can give me something to keep me on my feet?”  
          Moira raised her eyebrows. “An interesting challenge.” She picked up the accelerator, looking it over. “I apologize for interrupting earlier. How is it supposed to work?”  
          Lena did her best to explain, but Moira kept finding herself left behind in mechanical terminology. The cadet apologized profusely again.  
          “Why do you do that?” Moira asked, cutting Lena off mid-sentence.  
          “Do what?”  
          “Apologize so much. You didn’t do anything wrong. Of course you know more than I do about this, you’re a pilot and you wear it every day.” She wasn’t angry, she hardly had any kind of tone at all. Moira was matter of fact.  
          “I…I guess I never thought about it that way. I’m sorry, guess I’m just used to-” the cadet clamped her hand over her mouth, realizing what she’d said.  
          Moira chuckled a bit to herself. “I’m almost out of my 30’s. It didn’t happen overnight. So you need something to deliver healing - how long will you need it to last? I can’t say I’ll be able to make something very permanent…”  
          “Of course not, no! Winston should be back early next week - a very temporary fix.” Lena replied. “I brought this so you’d have an option, you don’t _have_ to build on the accelerator at all!”  
          “No, no, thank you. I believe I can put something together for you.” Moira smiled. “Give me just a few minutes.” She took the accelerator - it would be a simple enough task to make a small pack that was rigged to the accelerator, and it would feel familiar enough for Lena to use. Moira started digging around in cupboard and cabinets, assembling pieces and whipping together a solution to fill it with. Lena looked around absently, biding time while she waited. Moira wasn’t one for small talk, so she wasn’t much interested in starting any.  
          “What’s this here?” After a few minutes, Lena finally noticed the arm piece and spoke up about it. Moira was pulled out of her work, and tried to cover quickly.  
          “Oh, it’s…a prototype I’m working on. Just experimental.” She brushed, hoping that would suffice.  
          “It looks neat…what does it do?” Now Lena was examining it, turning it over in her hands and holding it up to light.  
          “Theoretically, something similar to what I’m making for you.” She replied, locking pieces together. “Just another way to heal.” Moira kept her periphery trained on Lena as she gave it another once-over. In just a few minutes, the chronal accelerator was modified. Moira presented it to the cadet.  
          “Thanks!” she easily flipped her attention from Moira’s invention to the accelerator. Lena checked out her upgrades, even flicking her nail against the new vial to hear it _clink_. “And hey, I don’t know what you were planning with that, but it looks like your cooling system is backfiring.”  
          Moira paused. “It’s what?”  
          “A backfire. Sorry, it’s just-” she stopped, and Moira gave her a small smile. “Not sorry. There’s a backfire. You’re leaking coolant in that glove thing.” She showed Moira were she could see the cracks, then pointed to the burn marks on the table. “Good thing that’s sort of what these lab desks are for, right?”  
          Moira hadn’t noticed at all, but it made sense - the coolant was definitely cold enough to put her solution back in a liquid state that would clog. “You’re completely correct. My God, thank you. I was bashing my head against the wall.”  
          Lena smiled, huge and proud. “Anytime, Doc. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it - but thanks again for the help with this!” she said, reattaching the accelerator to it’s spot on her chest. “And I like that ‘not saying sorry’ thing.”  
          “I’m here to help.” Moira smiled, and as soon as the cadet turned, she picked up her rig again. So the coolant was backfiring? No problem, she could find the leak. Was it a materials problem? Or maybe -  
          “Uh, before I leave.” Cadet Oxton was still in the door and her voice cut through Moira’s brainstorm.  
          She turned over her shoulder again. “Yes?”  
          “We’re going out after work. The pool hall down the street - a few drinks and games. If you wanna come.”  
          A lead weight dropped into Moira’s gut, but she didn’t hesitate. “No, no thank you.” Moira answered, turning back to her work. “I don’t really drink.”  
          “You don’t have to! Even if you just want to come! We’d love to get to know you.” Lena said, and Moira kept her face turned away.  
           _“We don’t get to be friends.”_  
          “No, thank you. I’m quite alright.” There was more authority in her voice, a wish for Lena to go away.  
          One more try. “Everyone’s usually there - Wilhelm and Amari, Morrison and Reyes, I think Angela said she was coming…”  
          “No. I’m fine.” Lena took the hint - after a few seconds, she gave up on any more attempts to convince her and left back toward the front.  
          Moira swallowed hard, feeling her eyes swell and bubble up with tears. She took a deep breath, staring sightlessly ahead and silently willing herself to stop crying. She’d done it forever - within seconds, she regained composure. Her cheeks were a little flushed, but nothing noticeable.  
           _“We don’t get to be friends.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey wee this is barely within the deadline! it's late in some time zones!
> 
> also did you know moira can be a cold, intellectual bitch that also has some feelings sometimes? in this ted talk i will explore
> 
> edit: hey so the next chapter is going to be some (light) explicit stuff finally!!! i know there's dirty birds lurking here that have been waiting for it. first half will be plot, then i will include a page break of some kind where you can stop reading if you so choose to and skip to the end notes for any vital information (which there won't be much of, promise)!!!
> 
> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all work and no play isn't good for anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first explicit chapter! if you'd like to skip that, explicit material will always come after this break: 
> 
> «────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
> 
> when you see this, you can skip to the end notes for any important information (if any).

          The next morning, Moira was back at work early, arriving to the clinic before the sun came up. Yesterday, she was very pleased with the state of the upgrades she was making, and she wanted to give her arm piece a test run before anyone was there to see. By all accounts, it was probably the least suspicious thing she could be caught doing for Blackwatch, but it was always best to avoid extra eyes, just in case. Reyes mentioned they had another mission coming up the following night and she needed to be _positive_ this time that there weren’t going to be anymore mishaps. She was tired of being a part of the problem on these missions - it was her job to be the opposite, to be dependable.  
          She sighed heavily, scolding herself while opening the door to her lab. The pieces were laid out neatly along a countertop, where she’d left them after a final cleaning and polishing the night before. Her obsessive, detail-oriented nature wouldn’t let her put it on without one more examination, a handful more tweaks, a few tiny adjustments. When she was satisfied, she stood up and stretched - about an hour until other staff started to arrive, so it was time to get this moving. With great hesitation, she turned power on to the new cooling system. The canisters, usually worn on her back, were set up next to her so she could watch. A few breathless seconds…and everything began circulating as planned. Moira pushed out her breath. So far, so good. Slightly more assured now, she snapped the bracer into place, twisting her arm and rotating her wrist - really just buying time, pretending to do something. Finally,she aimed her hand in front of her, poised to press - she reached to the rack of goggles hanging above the sink next to her and pulled a pair over her head - and with a deep breath, she triggered the mechanism.  
          A burst of gold shot forth, exploding into a shimmering cloud. She let up immediately, afraid of jamming it again. Moira turned her palm up, examining the piping, the exit, taking a peek at the canisters. Everything was still working in top condition, so it was already going better than last time. She held her palm out again, took another breath, then pushed, blasting for a few seconds. It was absolutely beautiful as she watched the aerated particles spread around the room, dancing and catching light as they fell to the surface beneath. She could feel it starting to take effect, a slow creep this time as opposed to the straight shot from before. It was _working._  
          “And I saved money on coffee this morning.” She joked to herself as she unclipped and unhooked from everything. It would need another once over and test tomorrow, just in case, but it was exactly as she had imagined it could be in her head.  
          “Holy shit, what was _that?!”_  
          Moira spun around, yelling in surprise. Commander Reyes yelled back and grabbed at the door jam, equally surprised.  
          “God, man! What are you doing here at this hour?” Moira demanded.  
          “Yeah, good morning to you, too.” He said, leaning into his hand as he calmed himself. “I came to check on you, make sure you were ready to go for tomorrow.” He pushed up, coming into the lab. “But I feel like I'm speedballing on a caffeine IV, so my guess is you’re doing fine?”  
          Moira gave a deep chuckle. “Yes, actually. _This_ is how it was supposed to work. I’ve figured out the problems - well, a large part was actually thanks to Cadet Oxton.”  
          Reyes smirked and made a noise. “Tch. Oxton?”  
          Moira nodded. “Indeed. She pointed out a cooling problem I had. Her pilot knowledge was very useful, actually.”  
          “Yeah, yeah, she mentioned that last night.” Gabe said, moving around Moira to look at the rig on the counter. “Coming to see you about the accelerator. Thanks for helping with that, by the way.”  
          “Of course. It’s my job.” She said. “With this working, I’m actually excited about tomorrow, if I’m being honest.”  
          “Are you now?” He said, turning and leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed easily over his chest. “I still haven’t given you the details, O’Deorain.”  
          Moira stood across from him, leaning back against her hands on another empty lab table. “It’s not another assassination, is it?”  
          “Nope.” Gabe laughed a single, gruff grunt. “You thought that was hard or something?”  
          “It was certainly…tedious.” She mused.  
          Reyes nodded. “How do you feel about thievery?”  
          Moira smirked. “Stealth certainly adds an interesting element for me.”  
          “Tomorrow, we’re in charge of recovering an Omnic artifact. A mask by one of the leaders of the revolution, stolen from a museum.”  
          “Wait, what?” Moira interrupted. “Why aren’t the police handling this? I don’t think this is our jurisdiction.”  
          “It’s not really.” He said with a bit of a sigh. “This museum is tied to very... _important_ financial sponsors of Overwatch. They don’t want to wait for the police and give the theives time to get rid of the mask. These kinds of things only have _days_ before an interested buyer sweeps off with it and disappears forever. We have intel on where it is-”  
          “Oh, very reassuring.”  
          Reyes cocked his head. “You don’t want to do this or something?”  
          Moira laughed, making the commander furrow his brow even more. “Of course I want to. That’s why I have questions. I want it to go well, but this seems a little strange.”  
          She was struck by the absolute _annoyance_ that came over Reyes. His whole posture shifted, and he tensed - she saw his shoulders raise up to his ears defensively. “At the end of the day, we’re nothing more than vigilantes.” He said, “That’s it. Heroes for hire that can crack skulls. We don’t ask questions about who’s signing the paycheck.” Dropping his arms but not any of his tension, Gabe started to pass Moira and head for the door, but she stopped him her voice.  
          “You sure have a lot of “don’t”s and “can’t”s, huh?” she said, not looking at him, keeping her gaze ahead.  
          He pushed a half-laugh out of his nose. “I guess I do.” He didn’t move, and Moira peeked at him through her periphery over her shoulder. “You’ll get used to it. See you tomorrow.” He strode out of the room.  
          A vigilante art thief. She was _certain_ that wasn’t in the description when she applied for the job…  
  
          Soon, the clinic staff had arrived and patients began coming in for appointments. Nothing she was needed for - a few sick children, some medication refills, checkups on veterans with chronic injuries. Her staff was brilliant, so fine tuned she knew deep down that she was really only there for emergencies. At every level, Overwatch was staffed with competent, caring staff -she could see why it’s members and employees had such a zest for it at the party.Moira stayed in her office most of the day, looking over the reports that came in between drawing up drafts of a new idea she had - maybe there was a way to get healing a long distance away?  
          In the afternoon, there was a knock on her office door.  
          “Come in.” She called, calmly sliding the Blackwatch plans closed and flipping her screens to a patient chart.  
          Dr. Ziegler opened the door, greeting her with a brilliant smile. “Good morning!”  
          Before she could stop it, Moira was smiling back, a little dreamy. “Good morning, Dr. Ziegler. What luck brings you our way?” She asked.  
          Angela giggled. “You flatter me, Dr. O’Deorain. I simply came by to check on everyone - hello Julia! Hi Andrei!” she turned suddenly and waved down the hall, a huge smile on her face. Moira could hear two of her nurses holler back their hellos. “Oh, I remember when they were students.” She said fondly before looking back to Moira. “How has it been?” She invited herself into the office, shutting the door behind her and taking the seat opposite Moira.  
          “Yes, of course. The staff is amazing. They’ve been incredibly welcoming and gracious, and their work ethic is admirable.” Moira started.  
          “Do you think they like you?” Angela asked.  
          Moira was a little taken aback. “Excuse me?”  
          “You like them. Do you think they like you?” she asked again. Moira was struck by how routine she was making it sound.  
          But she sat for a moment and thought about it. “I don’t think they know me enough to “like” me.”  
          Angela nodded. “I would agree. They do, by the way.”  
          “Have you been talking to my staff?” Moira asked with an incredulous, nervous chuckle.  
          “Of course I have, I’ve known most of them their entire medical careers. But if you mean, did I ask about you? No. They were eager to tell me they liked the new doctor, even if she’s a little aloof.” Angela had a soft smile. “But there’s nothing wrong with aloof!”  
          “Mmm, I’ve never heard that before…” an exaggerated eye roll made Angela giggle again.  
          “Well, keep up the good work. No one seems to have complaints, and that’s the kind of silence I like to hear. Even the patients in your waiting room are happy - a medical miracle.” The two laughed, Moira maybe a little too hard, then Angela stood. “I’m off to the lab again. But I’m very glad your first month has been good.”  
          Moira shook her head, quickly. “A month? Has it been that long already?” She thought back - counting the days she lost being down that blended together, the downtime between missions…yes, she was rounding the corner on one full month in her new job.  
          “With many more to come, I hope.” Angela winked and turned to leave, and Moira could only watch her go, her eyes raking down Angela’s shoulders to her backside, and she couldn’t help but noticed how it stretched against her lab coat.  
          “Goodness.” She scolded herself, turning back to her computer and work. How inappropriate.

«────── «  ⋅ ʚ ♡ ɞ ⋅ » ──────»

          Moira liked living so close to work. She could walk to and from work every day, and walks were nice. Spending so much time cooped up, she often forgot to get fresh air, stretch her arms, do something other than hunch over a desk, but her daily walk to and from the campus gave her that outlet. They were also her favorite time to brainstorm - people could praise the shower all they wanted, but Moira had her best ideas when she was walking.  
          Her walk home tonight, however, was one of her least productive. Punctuating her ideas were thoughts of Angela. She tried to stay focused on the mission tomorrow, but her mind drifted to Angela’s eyes, how they gently crinkled when she smiled… And she would pull her thoughts back, force herself to focus on brainstorming. Trying to get distance would be aided by involving a projectile, but how could it deliver material? What would it drop or project or disperse? She couldn’t stay focused long, though, as her mind floated back to how Angela had looked that day. A lab coat was not the most flattering garment by all accounts, hardly designed for looks or to show off someone’s figure - but the image of Angela’s ass pulling tight along the seam as she walked away, her curves pushing the limits of what her clothes could contain…  
          “Stop that.” She said out loud as she emptied her pockets inside the front door. Fantasizing about Dr. Ziegler is not on the to-do list. There was laundry, dishes and a messy kitchen, groceries to be bought, but first, she needed a shower.  
          She went directly to her bathroom. Moira ran her hands through her hair, pushing it up from her face. She needed to calm down, to recenter herself. She couldn’t focus. Her brain was scattered, jumping from chores to Angela’s hips swaying while she walked, back to what she needed from the store, interrupted by the way Angela covered her face a little when she laughed.  
          Moira quickly stripped and stepped in the shower, letting the cold water hit her straight on. She cursed aloud, but it did what she wanted, pulling her focus in to one point. She showered, taking deep breaths. Her mind calmed, slowed. She was able to think through what she needed to do tonight. Low maintenence was her game, so she was stepping out only a few minutes later, toweling off and combing her hair back to dry.  
          Still nude, she walked back to her bedroom to get fresh clothes. She wondered what Angela would look like, walking in naked like this.  
          Moira rolled her eyes and took another deep breath. What was going _on?_ This must be something hormonal - she was insatiable, she couldn’t keep her mind off Angela. As she stood, sightlessly staring into her closet, Moira’s hand slid from her hip to her inner thigh. Her other hand rested on her chest, fingertips just barely daring to touch her small, perky breasts. She took a deep breath. _Fine._  
          Her desk chair was just to the side of her closet, and she fell down into it. Her knee hooked up over the arm of the chair, exposing her to the cool air. She leaned back, melting as she let her fingertips dance along her vulva, teasing, and she took another deep breath.  
          Angela was _perfection._ She was everything - a genius at the top of her game, a saint of healing and care, charismatic enough to be a cult leader, but she was absolutely cherubic. Oh, her smile made Moira’s heart race, and Moira couldn’t help but smile, too, as she remembered her visit that morning. Everything about her drove Moira _crazy_ and she squirmed a bit against her hand, pressing her pelvis into her palm.  
          She wanted more. More stimulation, more input. She wanted Angela in her office, shutting the door behind her. When she turned, her coat would open wearing only lingerie underneath - with lace frills and straps up her hips and chest, garters straining against her thighs. Moira gently rocked her hips as she rubbed a neat circle over her clit. She sighed, low and breathy as her head tilted back.  
          Angela would peel off her coat, and take her hair down. A vision in white, framed with her white blonde hair, big blue eyes staring up at her. Moira wanted to touch her so bad. Her hand slipped down along her slit and she moaned when she felt how wet she was getting - she wanted to make Angela wet. She’d come around to Moira’s side of the desk, taking her place straddling Moira’s lap. Moira imagined her gorgeous ass in her hands, how Angela would whimper when she spanked her. Her hand moved faster now, and she moaned softly, arching her back and pressing her pelvis down. The thought of having the angel of Overwatch at her fingertips, her chest heaving and waiting for Moira to nip and bite. _God,_ Angela probably made the best sounds, wailing and giggling and biting her lip. Moira would pull her panties to the side and press at Angela’s entrance, just teasing her with pleasure she couldn’t quite have yet. She pushed two fingers inside herself, instead, groaning as she imagined Angela begging.  
           _“More, please! I need you!”_ Moira wanted to hear Angela begging. She wanted to turn her on as much as Angela did her. She wanted Angela fucking herself on Moira’s fingers, bouncing hungrily and _daring_ a nurse to come into the office. To bend Angela over her desk and fuck her deeper. Moira was panting, now, flicking her g-spot. She wanted Angela sitting, held down with her knees pushed up to her shoulders, crying out ecstasy as Moira made her orgasm over and over with her mouth.  
          “A dhiabhail!” Moira cursed and came, not letting up on her g-spot until she stopped spasming. She rested, leg still draped up over the arm of the chair, her hand lazily supporting her head that had lolled off to the side.  
          As she sat and her haze of lust started to clear, guilt began to take its place. This was all wrong of her - Dr. Ziegler was so many things to Moira, she couldn’t be this. Moira had to find another outlet for these feelings before this got out of hand. She stood, slinking off to the bathroom to clean up. If they didn’t get to be friends, they definitely didn’t get to be _that_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: moira at least has the hots for Angela, but she hates it and is trying to push those feelings away. 
> 
> you know what's cool? female masturbation. attraction to women not being leery or creepy (because it's not). moira sitting like a rebellious greek god. anyway. edit: i came across some AMAZING cosplay that's [basically moira's fantasy](http://aicosu.tumblr.com/post/175178277252/moicy-from-overwatch-is-this-months-patreon) (thanks aicosu!) 
> 
> next week is mission number three. and did you know jesse and moira are bffs? you're gonna! 
> 
> also, my moira cosplay set is live on patreon with previews on all my cosplay accounts - i might post uncensored previews this weekend on my tumblr??? come see for yourself. ♡
> 
> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a blackwatch mission with moira's new tech.

          Blackwatch was riding in a style the team wasn’t used to tonight. Instead of the busted up surveillance van, they were in a black clipper-style van blending into the city streets. It was spacious on the inside, a luxury car the organization had on fleet, equipped to carry celebrities and other VIPs.  
          “If this is what we could have had the whole time, _why_ did we take that damn van?” Jesse asked as he dug around in the small refrigerator set into a door.  
          Reyes smacked the back of his head, bouncing it against the shelf. “What do you think you’re doing?”  
          Jesse sat up, holding his forehead. “What the hell, Gabe?”  
          “We’re not here to unwind. You really wanted to try to get this up a mountain road?” He answered. “It was black and ready to go. That’s all.”  
          “Very sneaky.” Genji said, laughing to himself.  
          Silence hung over them, the conversation stalling out.  
          “Nothing from the good doc?” Jesse asked.  
          Moira had her head down, completely engrossed in the work in her lap. “Oh?” she said, pulled out of her concentration. “Sure, Reyes is probably being unreasonable.” She hardly gave them more than a few seconds of her attention before she went back to adjusting her new rig.  
          “See?” McCree whined.  
          “Moira.” Gabe cut through, serious. Moira looked up. “It’s going to be great.” He didn’t smile, or give any particular warmth, but when Moira locked eyes with him, she couldn't help but be calmed by his confidence.   
          “It’s just a few last minute things…” she started to get to work again, but Reyes reached out and gently put his hand over hers.  
          “Don’t stress yourself out.” Reyes sat back. “Wait until you guys get a hit of that stuff, damn.”  
          McCree winked at Moira, reassuringly. “Hopefully, there won’t be any need.”  
          The car rolled to a stop, and the four peered through the darkened windows onto the street outside. They were nowhere, the middle of a heavily industrialized area. All around them were empty plots, half-built structures, machinery laid to rest for the night among orange safety barrels.  
          “Uh…you sure the GPS is right on this one?” Jesse asked, craning his neck to peer out the window.  
          “We’ve come as far as we can.” Reyes said, pulling his gear together. “Not too much to brief on this one. C’mon, let’s move.”  
          The rest of the team went through their final checks and once fully armored and geared up, Reyes held a hand in the air.  
          “We’re all leaving that side,” he said, pointing to the side of the car away from the construction field in front of them.   
          Tension suddenly filled the space, all four of them just barely breathing. Reyes moved first, followed by Genji, then McCree, and Moira in the rear. Their eyes darted around, scanning the horizon for any signs of trouble.   
          “The mask is still in a transport van, parked due north of here. It’s waiting overnight to be auctioned off tomorrow - we only have _one shot_ at this.” He said, his whisper turning into a growl. “We have to cross this field to that building on the end to get to it. Genji, you have the patch from Winston?”  
          Genji nodded.  
          “When we get to the van, it’s on you to get us in. Once we have it, we’re halfway done - we have to get back.”  
          “Did you forget about the hike you made us do?” McCree asked sarcastically. “I think we can run a mile.”  
          Reyes rolled his eyes. “Sure, of course you can, Jesse, but can you do it with an automated security system keeping you back?”  
          “A what now?” Jesse’s horror matched Moira’s and Genji’s.  
          “This isn’t actually a construction area. It’s a base for this terrorist group. Nothing is being built here - it’s already been built, and we have to hope we don’t find anything.”  
          “It’s a minefield?” Moira asked, still incredulous.  
          “Basically. You see why I wanted to check you were up to snuff? Alright, now get up where you can see.”  
          He didn't give them a chance to get scared and ask questions. The team moved, McCree and Moira sticking their heads out from around the trunk, and Genji hanging onto the side and looking out over the top. “The van is the dark grey one, on the end there.”  
          He pointed off, and Genji and Moira nodded.  
          “Obviously, a direct path isn’t-”  
          “I don’t see it.”  
          The other three turned their heads to McCree, still bobbing his head around, searching.  
          “What are you talking about?” Reyes asked, annoyed.  
          “Where is it?”  
          “Right there. With the other vans.” Gabe pointed again.  
          “Other vans?!” Jesse asked.  
          “Mattaku…”  
          “Well, I’m sorry y’all! Not all of us have cyborg eyes!”   
          “I believe Genji is the only one…” Moira mused, mostly to herself.  
          Reyes groaned as loud as he dared. “We don’t have time for this, McCree!”  
          “Look, do you see that excavator?” Moira asked, cutting in.  
          “The what?”  
          She sighed. “The _scoopy_ one.”  
          Jesse shot her a look, but relented. “Alright, yeah, yeah.”  
          “Moira, seriously-” Gabe started, but Moira ignored him.  
          “Look to the left. Do you see the trucks?”  
          “Yeah…” he said, following her directions.  
          “Look down the line. You know, with the _other vans?"_  
          When he finally spotted it, McCree just nodded and threw a thumbs up at the team. “Alright, got it now.”  
          The other three sighed and groaned their annoyance.  
          “Now that we’re _all here_ …” Reyes scolded. “A direct path to the van isn’t going to be feasible. We’re going to flank wide to the right - it’s closer to the street, less likely to be trapped or, at least, not as lethally trapped. Use the vehicles for cover, but be careful with them.”  
          “You keep saying ‘trapped.’ Do we know what we’re looking for?” Moira asked.  
          “Yes, actually. First, mines in the ground. Avoid freshly moved dirt. Second, hard light turrets on vehicles. They’ll be hidden and will probably hit you before you see them - so Moira, stay close. Third, wire traps. Cross a trip line and they deal a huge crushing hit, so don’t go under anything suspended unless you absolutely _have_ to.”  
          They looked out over the field. What originally looked like any other construction site was now a nightmarish game board full of punishments. The heavy machinery became maze-like, and Moira could immediately identify some injury-causing spots, but she took a deep breath and steeled herself.  
          “I’m by your side.” She reassured, both to them and herself.  
          “One step at a time. Don’t go rushing ahead, Genji.” McCree joked. Moira smiled, despite her nerves.  
          Genji huffed as he fell back to the ground. “Ready when you are.”  
          “Alright. To that backhoe.” He gestured to the nearest yellow monster, off the trunk side. “McCree, lead the way.”  
          Their first few movements went smoothly. A fairly obvious mine was set into the ground in front of them, which they all sidestepped easily. The backhoe had a hard light turret attached to it’s grille, which Jesse smashed with a pistol whip. They were able to move a few more feet, around a stack of beams and barrels, avoiding a trip wire caught in the moonlight, to reach cover at the next machine, a bulldozer.  
          “We’re already a quarter of the way there!” Jesse said, looking through the cab of the dozer toward the van.  
          “If we were going straight on. We’re gonna keep flanking that way.” Reyes said.  
          “Wait.” Genji silenced the group, and they followed his intent stare up. “That…doesn’t seem safe.”  
          To the right, where the commander had indicated, were a handful of machines holding up large steel beams, bundled together. “He’s right.” Moira chimed in. “That all looks like a trap.”  
          “I think I agree with them, Reyes…” Jesse said. “We’ve done a good job of spotting the stuff before we reach it, I think we can handle some mines going this way.”  
          “There’s no way _all_ of that is trapped, there has to be ways through. I don’t want to take my chances on a more open area.” Reyes argued.  
          “I can fix a hard light injury. I can’t fix ‘completely crushed into pulp.’” Moira chimed in.  
          “Can you fix ‘blown to red mist?’” Reyes asked sarcastically.  
          “Hmm, it’s almost like this whole thing is just dangerous! But we should trust what our medic says - she’s gotta keep us going, we should make it easier.” McCree fired back.  
          “Fine. Fine, we’ll go this way. To that other backhoe.” Gabe relented.  
          The team nodded, and split around the bulldozer with Moira and Genji around the back, Gabe and McCree in the front. As McCree passed the dozer and broke into the open area first, Moira watched in horror as a hard light beam smashed into his back, sending him flying forward to the ground. A shotgun blasted, and they looked to the front to see Reyes with his gun under the dozer head. “Told you.”  
          Moira sprinted as quick as she could to McCree. He was still conscious, grumbling and trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him. Moira pressed down on her trigger and couldn’t deny the relief she felt as healing poured forth effortlessly. McCree quickly came to, getting on his feet in seconds and looking at Moira with wide eyes.  
          “What on _Earth_ did you do to me?” he asked, flexing his fingers and looking down at his body.  
          “New healing. How do you feel?”  
          “Goddamn _amazing._ ” He said emphatically, meeting her eyes. She didn’t even try to fight off the wide smile on her face, and he smiled back. “Alright, let’s roll!” he said, taking off in a run to their destination again.  
          As Reyes and Genji jogged to join them, Moira felt a brief hand on her shoulder. “Good job, Doctor,” Gabe said quickly, then jogged on ahead. Moira was soaring - she’d _finally_ gotten it right.  
          They made it to their next stop, and the one after that. McCree nearly ran full step into a mine, but Genji spotted it and knocked him out of the way. When they reached their next machine checkpoint, they paused for a second.  
          “So the traps are _definitely_ getting harder to see.” McCree stated.  
          “I figured they would. False sense of security and all that.” Reyes replied. “But we’re about halfway there.”  
          “And no crushing!” McCree said with a smile.  
          “But you almost blew yourself up.” Genji reminded him.  
          “So what’s the next checkpoint?” Moira asked, stopping any potential argument in it’s tracks.  
          “Gotta get to that excavator next, and we have another choice. On the right, there’s those pallets. _Definitely_ hard light turrets in there, and they’d be a bitch to find. On the left, though, I don’t like the look of that concrete…” he looked up to a suspended block of concrete.  
          “ _Very_ suspicious.” Genji agreed.  
          “Can you all take some hard light hits for a second? Just grit your teeth and bear it?” Moira asked. After a moment, the other three nodded, not really understanding.  
          “Then just follow me. Don’t stop running.”  
          Before they could argue, Moira took off in a sprint toward the pallets. As she got closer, she heard the sounds of the turrets opening, warming up. She tossed a quick glance over her shoulder, but of course the boys were right behind her. “Don’t stop running until we're through!” she called back one more time before reaching the pallets. As the turret clicked into place, Moira held her hand in front of her and pressed. Hard light smashed into her side from multiple directions, almost knocking her off balance as she sprinted for the excavator, but after a second she didn’t feel the pain, just the pressure - she sprayed wildly in front of her, leaving a trail of healing for the team to run through as soon as they were hit. She felt sudden energy pounding through her, her nerves on fire and _begging_ to keep carrying her forward. When they reached the excavator, the team hardly looked phased.  
          “I _told_ you guys!” Reyes said, flexing under his armor with delight.  
          “Thank you, Doctor.” Genji said, with a slight bow to his head. There was hardly a change to his breathing, and Moira wondered for a moment if he’d really needed her for that. _A subject for later study_ , she thought to herself.  
          More mines, deeper in the ground and better disguised. More tripwires that mostly didn’t catch the light anymore. Turrets scattered like gnats they swatted away at. They made quick work of the rest of the maze, stopping just short of the row of cars at another bulldozer.  
          “Now, you don’t think we can just go straight to our target from here, do you?” Moira asked Reyes.  
          “Absolutely not.”  
          “Turrets under the other vans?” McCree mused.  
          “I don't know. From what we understand, they still use these. A turret underneath wouldn’t be the safest idea. I’m more worried about this area actually being guarded.” his voice dropped, just above a whisper.  
          “Ah, that good ol’ Overwatch intel, always so complete and accurate…” Jesse griped.  
          “Genji, how do you feel about going in by yourself?” Reyes asked, and the team looked to their mate. He looked to the ground for a second, then back to them.  
          “If it’s the best choice. I think it’s safer that way.” He finally said.  
          “I will be right here.” Moira reminded him. He nodded appreciatively.  
          “Alright. You know what to do.” Reyes and Genji gave one more respectful nod to each other, then the ninja was off. Fortunately, Reyes’ instinct was right - there were no turrets, no kind of traps at all, it seemed. Genji disappeared around the other side of the van, and the team was left with more silence.  
          “So what ‘patch’ were you talking about?” McCree asked, after a few excruciating sentences.  
          “Oh, right. It’s some simple code that should get him into the car as well as open any lock mechanisms inside. He’s a portable codebreaker today, basically.” Reyes explained.  
          “ _Fascinating._ ” Genji got more and more interesting by the minute. Moira would certainly want to take a look at him in the future, if he consented to a little bit of study.  
          “He’s a valuable team member. I’m glad he’s finally getting comfortable with…everything.” Reyes said, then cleared his throat. “Anyway, he should be in the car by now, and he’s probably unlocking-”  
          Reyes was cut short by an alarm, obviously coming from the car Genji was working in. The three of them cursed out loud.  
          In a second, Genji was coming back around, sprinting as fast as he could. “I have it!” he cried, holding the mask up for his team to see.  
          “Don’t draw attention to yourself!” Reyes commanded, waving him in furiously.  
          “I think that ship has sailed.” McCree said, watching around them, paranoid.  
          “We gotta move!" Reyes commanded, and as Genji came in close, the team took off. Since they didn't have time to move carefully, Moira sprayed almost continuously, working to keep them from feeling the blows from the turrets. As they rounded the excavator they hid behind earlier, they heard an explosion close behind them and looked back in horror.  
          “They can activate mines  _remotely?!”_ McCree cried in disbelief. “Oh, we’re fucked.”  
          "No, we’re not! Come on, keep moving!" Gabe didn’t let them have the time to dwell. He took off, charging past the wall of turrets hidden in pallets. They made it to the next checkpoint, almost back, but even with Moira’s help, they were finally breathing a little harder, starting to feel their injuries a little more.  
          “Now, we absolutely _cannot_ go through that minefield,” she said. “We have to go under.” She looked toward the steel beams they avoided earlier, turning slowly on their cranes.  
          “You’re right." Gabe agreed. "Let’s move.” The team pushed through, getting back to their feet and sprinting away from the path they came up before. As they approached the steel beams, they watched the ground intently for wires. Genji, in the lead, did his best to guide and warn them of wires as he passed, but in her haste, Moira missed one. She felt the cable across her foot and immediately wanted to kick herself, but it would be a while before she could - from above, the steel beams came crashing to the ground. Even with her best efforts to dodge, she couldn’t totally avoid harm and her left leg was pinned, broken in multiple spots. She screamed, and before her eyes even opened her team was on her, excavating her.  
          “Moira, oh my God!” Jesse yelled, immediately digging at the ground around her leg. Genji went to the beams, mustering up all the strength he could to move them - they were too heavy.  
          “Reyes, help me!” Genji called. “McCree, you have to pull her out.”  
          Gabe joined Genji. “Moira, this is gonna hurt.”  
          She was already delirious with pain. Moira was just trying to hold onto consciousness and didn’t even bother to respond.  
          “Fuck, fuck!” she heard Gabe curse as he heaved, trying to move the heavy metal. She heard something shift above her, and screamed again as the weight moved to another break in her leg.  
          “Sorry! Sorry!” Genji shouted. Nearby, a mine went off, and the three of them started working even faster. Finally, one beam slid off and onto the ground.  
          “Got it!” Genji said, heaving hard. “McCree, you only have a second!”  
          “I hear ya!”  
          Moira’s eyes were closed now - she could only muster the energy to listen in. She heard Reyes close to her head, suddenly. “You’re gonna be okay. We got you.” His hands slid up under her arms, lifting her head and chest. McCree grabbed her free leg and hip.  
          “You gotta pardon my reach, just wanna make sure we get you in one go. You’re pretty long, if you didn’t know.” He said to her with a desperate smile. She was too tired to give him a laugh.  
          “One…two…now!” Genji counted down, then heaved. Moira gasped as the pressure finally came off her leg, and Reyes and McCree pulled hard to slide her across the dirt.  
          “Okay, now how do I make this go?” Reyes grabbed at her arm, flipping her palm over to look at her device.  
          “I think it’s…” McCree gently took her hand and flexed her wrist, spraying a small bit of healing. “Yeah!” He gingerly forced Moira’s hand back, pushing out healing in a cloud above her.  
          It wasn’t working as well anymore - an unfortunate side effect of longer or more intense missions was the tolerance developed to it. By the next time they had to go, she would be fine, but tonight, her leg was still _very_ broken, and she still felt almost _all_ of it.  
          “Moira, please, tell me you can move. We just have to get you to the car, please.” Reyes begged her as she began to force her eyes open again.  
          She licked her lips and cleared her throat. “With some help. And as long as McCree won’t complain about my limbs anymore.”  
          The cowboy laughed out loud. “You got it! Let’s go, beanpole!”  
          The team scooped her up, with McCree and Reyes on either side of her. She took her first few hesitant steps, biting back another scream when she came down on her leg.  
          Moira did her best to move quickly, but her human crutches weren’t the best mode of transportation. As they started, another mine ahead of them went off.  
          “Shit, that’s right!” Gabe cursed.  
          “I’ve got it.” Genji said, zipping off ahead. They could see mines blowing all over the field in front of them, but they kept pushing, approaching the cloud of dark black smoke. As they moved, they saw what Genji was doing - he’d gone ahead and started popping mines so they could navigate safely. They pulled face masks up over their mouths and noses, fighting to see through the smoke but grateful for the cover it provided. Chaos enveloped them, and Moira was absolutely delirious, essentially being dragged along by her team. Within a minute, they were back at the van, Genji ready with a door open to help load Moira in.  
          

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, sorry for being absent. life is really hard. i know everyone is having a hard time, but if you have the cash to spare, check out my fiverr store - you can commission a fic from me, as well as a few other odd jobs i do, and you can also buy lewd photos on my cosplay patreon and ko-fi. "money doesn't make you happy" lmao yeah well financial stability would solve 90% of my problems! 
> 
> anyway, thanks for sticking around. i'll see y'all next week.
> 
> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


	11. chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> moira's laid up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! i'm back!! everything has been hell but i finally feel like a person again!! anyway, see the end notes for more information if you want - otherwise, thank you SO MUCH for sticking around and coming back to read the new chapter! i'm shooting to get back on a weekly schedule again, but i think i'll be moving posting day to thursdays. 
> 
> again, i love you!! thank you for being here!!

          “I’m not _allowed_ to come in _?_ ”  
          Moira gripped the edge of the counter, thankful she couldn’t tear it up with her bare hands.  
          “You have to stay home.” Gabe was on the other end, lecturing her about her recently acquired injuries. “No way you could come in without people asking questions.”  
          She was seething. She’d _already_ been out for nearly a week, waiting for her bruising to heal. It was the worst her cabin fever had ever been - Moira’s apartment was absolutely spotless, with every plate and mug and lid organized to the micrometer, not a spot of soap scum to be found in the bathroom.  
          “My face is _fine,_ Reyes.”  
          “And what about your leg? What’s your story there?”  
          That was the real problem. Her tibia and fibula had snapped - the worst of her injuries, thankfully, but the heavy bracing around her leg wasn’t coming off for at least another week or so. “People get hurt. I could make up any story.”  
          “Moira, I’m not arguing with you. It’s only been five days. I don’t want to see you back until you’ve rested a full  _week._ ”  
          “A week!”  
          “I’m sure you’re not taking your pain meds, either, and you should be. Go sit down. Put your feet up. Take a-”  
          “I’m a _doctor,_ Gabriel,” she snapped.  
          “- pill, and watch something you like.” He barreled ahead, ignoring her interjection. “Just rest, okay? You’re no use to anyone if you’re hobbling around, doped up to keep your leg from bugging you. How’s it feeling, by the way?”  
          “It’s fine.” She wasn’t lying. It was a dull, throbbing ache, but it was nothing, really.  
          “Hmph,” he grunted. “See you soon.”  
          “Goodbye.” Moira slapped her phone down on the counter. A _week_. The days were already stretching on, and she was running out of things she could do without using her leg too much.  
          Begrudgingly, she got her pain medication from her bedroom. She carried it, along with an extra pillow, out to the living room. “Fuck you, Reyes,” she muttered to herself as she set up a footrest on her table. Moira settled in, turning on a documentary crime episodic - tidy 20 minute episodes about murders she’d seen dozens of times. She counted out her dose, lazy rolling the pills in her palm for a second. Moira didn’t particularly _like_ medication like this, the type that completely numbed a person out. It was only eight in the morning.  
          Her leg throbbed a little harder, finally settling in to being elevated. “Oh, fine. Whatever.” She swallowed the pills, resting her head back and closing her eyes. About thirty minutes, now. They usually just put her to sleep - if she was wasting a day on her commander’s orders, she’d waste it just like he said.

 

 _Knock knock knock.  
          _Moira picked her head up and blinked awake, looking to the door. She checked her phone quickly, then cursed herself - she'd slept well into the evening.  
          “Dr. O’Deorain! If you’re not available right now, I’ll just leave this here!”  
          “Angela?” Half-convinced she was still asleep, she hobbled as quickly as she could to the door.  
          She swung it open, and Angela stumbled a step into the door frame, gasping in surprise.  
          “Oh, my apologies.” Moira gently held out her arms, but Angela found her footing.  
          “I was just writing a note!” She held up the little sheet of paper crumpled in her hand. “Should have written on something other than the door. I know it’s getting late, but I wanted to check in on you - oh my goodness!” As Angela spoke, she noticed Moira’s leg. “What happened?” The doctor gathered her bag and stepped into the apartment, settling in on the living room table.  
          Moira watched in stunned silence for a moment until Angela looked over, waiting for the answer. “Reyes didn’t mention it?”  
          “No, just said you weren’t feeling well.”  
          Moira rolled her eyes. “Really, it’s nothing, Dr. Ziegler…”  
          Angela came a little closer, leaning against the back of the couch with her arms crossed and one hip cocked out. “You think I don’t recognize a cast like that?” Moira blushed slightly.  
          “So what happened?”  
          “Tibia fracture.” Moira lied. Telling her the full extent of the injury would only raise suspicion - not many every day accidents lead to two smashed leg bones after all.  
          “Doing what?”  
          “Isn’t that a little personal?”  
          “Oh.” Angela was taken aback for a moment. “I apologize…I didn’t mean to pry.”  
          Moira bit at the inside of her lip, regretting how harsh that came off. “A silly accident…you know.”  
          “Sure, sure. Well, no matter.” Angela pushed up from leaning and returned to her goodies, sitting in the middle of the sofa. “Since Reyes didn’t specify what the issue was, I brought a little bit of everything. Hmm…you probably don’t need soup or cough medicine…” she muttered as she shuffled through things, and Moira came around to take a seat on the end of the couch.  
          “Doctor, I don’t need _anything._ Just a little bit of rest.”  
          “I’m sure it hurts, doesn’t it?”  
          “Of course.” At the mention, she noticed the throbbing again, getting worse quickly since she’d walked around for a few minutes.  
          Angela smiled. “So while you might not _need_ this, I think you’ll like it.” From her bag, she pulled a test tube of something and gestured for Moira to bring her leg up on the table.  
          “I don’t put my feet on the table.”  
          Angela rolled her eyes. “Then fine, here.” She gestured “come here” with her hand to Moira’s leg, who hesitantly lifted her foot. Angela hoisted it over to her lap. “I don’t mind your cast cooties.”  
          Moira swallowed, composing herself. “What is that?”  
          “A salve I developed.” She said, swirling the tube around. It was thick liquid, a dark honey brown. “It’ll feel funny going in, but it should help with the pain for a while.”  
          From another pocket in her bag, she pulled a syringe and a sharp, thick needle, then uncapped the tube.  
          “Now hold on, Angela…” Moira said, tensing her leg back toward her a bit.  
          Angela giggled. "Oh, no, no, no! Watch."  
          She filled the syringe with her salve, drawing the liquid up. It wasn't as thick as Moira thought - it still flowed easily, with little effort from Angela. "Like I said, it'll be an... _interesting_ sensation on your skin."  
          She started at the top of the cast, just below Moira's knee. Moira winced instinctively as the needle approached, but Angela stuck it directly into the cast. She depressed the plunger, and as she finished, the feeling started to hit - an icy burn not unlike an IV, spreading over her skin and around her leg.  
          "Is it okay?" Angela asked. Moira nodded. The doctor smiled and refilled her syringe, moving a few inches down Moira's leg. "I'm working on this as a way to help relieve pain and possibly speed up healing - using bandages and casts and splints to their full potential."  
          It was indeed interesting. Moira could see a more squeamish person taking an issue with the sensation, but she felt only relief as her leg numbed and calmed.  
          "There. All done. How does it feel?" Angela asked.  
          "The best it's felt so far." Moira said. "Thank you." She leaned back a little, even letting her eyes shut. "You don't realize how much it hurts until it stops."  
          "Mmm, exactly." Angela agreed, placing her hands gently on Moira's leg.  
          "Oh, of course." Moira started to pull her leg down but Angela protested.  
          "If it's comfortable, you're welcome to leave it."  
          Moira concealed her schoolgirl excitement with a poker face and a quip. "Do you do this for all your new hires, Dr. Ziegler?"  
          "Only the ones I have an investment in." She retorted quickly. "We gotta get you back in the lab!"  
          "Oh, of course! Nothing more than another set of hands to you!" Moira lamented jokingly.  
          "Very talented and intelligent hands!" Angela offered as consolation, and they both laughed. But Moira couldn't avoid noticing - of _course_ it was just about making her better. And Angela was a doctor who regularly went above and beyond for her patients - she couldn't read into this.  
          "How was the lab today?" Moira asked. Angela launched into her day - talking about developments in her work, a new intern that made a mixup and caused a small explosion. Moira listened intently, laughed and asked for more. She _loved_ talking to Angela - she was so soft and eloquent, sharp and witty without being acrid and mean. They only stopped when Angela's stomach interrupted, ripping between the two of them with a fierce groan. They met eyes in surprise, then laughed out loud.  
          "I didn't even consider! Did you come here directly from work?" Moira asked.  
          "Sure, but it's alright. I guess I should get out of your hair..." Angela said, looking toward her bag and getting ready to pack up.  
          "You don't have to." Moira said, trying not to seem overeager. "I'll make us dinner, if you'd like." She pulled her leg down finally, trying not to pressure Angela. It was just a wellness call, after all. A dinner invitation is something different, and she had every right to turn her down and say -  
          "That would be lovely."  
          Moira couldn't stop her smile.  
          "But _I'll_ be making it!" She said, hopping up.  
          Moira laughed. "In _my_ kitchen?"  
          "I'm a smart woman, I can figure it out. You shouldn’t be standing on that leg.“ Angela said, going around the corner to the kitchen.  
          Moira followed after, a little slower. "Fine, fine, I'll just be your assistant, if you so insist."  
          "No, you'll sit right there." Angela pointed back at the couch.  
          "What? I can be on my foot. Your medicine wouldn't be too good if I couldn't, don't you think?" Moira pointed out.  
          Angela considered it for a moment. “…Then come along, assistant! What are we making?"  
          Moira laughed out loud. "Right, and _I'm_ the assistant..."

          They decided on spaghetti - easy and quick. Moira leaned against a distant counter, pointing out where the ingredient and utensils were in her kitchen. Angela responded with questions of her own. She asked the Irish woman about her home, and Moira painted pictures with her descriptions of the hills and lakes. Angela asked about her family - Moira politely dodged and Angela took the hint. She wanted to know about college, quickly prying away from academics and into silly personal stories.  
          Moira laughed. “Now _this_ sounds almost nefarious! Are you trying to blackmail me or something?”  
          Angela set the cooking spoon in it’s holder next to the gently boiling pot and smirked up at Moira. “Of _course_ not. But you are…” she paused, searching for the words. “An _enigma._ You’re wonderful at your job, but…” she trailed off again, stepping in closer to Moira. She didn’t move, just keeping her eyes locked to Angela’s. Delicately, Angela rested a single finger on Moira’s breastbone. “What’s going on in there?”  
          Moira focused on slowly inhaling, cursing her fluttering heartbeat that pulsed against her thin chest. “I’m going to make a drink. Would you like one?” She turned on her heel, moving to the cocktail cart in the living room.  
          Angela returned to the spaghetti. “Do you have wine?”  
          “Red or white?”  
          “Mmm…a pinot noir?”  
          Moira poured herself a neat tumbler of whiskey and modest glass for Angela. She was careful to set the glass down at arm’s length, leaning against the counter opposite the stove.  
          “How is your leg feeling, by the way?” Angela asked as she returned.  
          “Oh.” Moira looked down, examining the cast. “To be perfectly honest, I forgot all about it.”  
          “Perfect!” Angela punctuated it with a sip of wine. “So. How do you like Zürich so far?"  
          “The summer has been a little warmer - a welcome change.”  
          “Oh, but our winters…”  
          Moira waved her off as she sipped from her glass. “So I wear an extra sweater. I’m so sick of hearing about how cold it is!”  
          They both laughed, then Angela asked, “But what else?”  
          “Hmm?”  
          “What else? What else do you do for fun? Have you seen any movies? Been to a park you like? Gone on any dates?”  
          Moira stopped for a second, even taking another slow sip to stall. “I guess I haven’t really felt…settled enough to branch out.”  
          The timer started it’s shrill beep, and Moira was thankful to have Angela’s eyes off her. “Lena mentioned she invited you out - you should come sometime.”  
          “Oh? I wasn’t sure…”  
          “Of course! I don’t always go either. I try to keep a strict bedtime!” She said, wagging the wet spoon near her head for emphasis. “But Reinhardt and Torbjorn are old men who still drink every weekend as if they’re in a fraternity!” she shrugged as she drained the pasta. “Whatever way you go, it’s a fun time.”  
          Moira had little interest in putting herself out there for her coworkers, but an invitation from Angela was enough to make her rethink turning down Cadet Oxton.  
          “But you’re not…unhappy, are you?” Angela asked after a moment of silence.  
          “Really, I don’t need _that_ kind of a wellness checkup, Doctor.”  
          Angela giggled, gently as she mixed the pot. “No, no, I _promise,_ I’m not here on _any_ kind of business, Moira!” She stopped again and looked Moira in the eye. “Are you not used to someone asking how you feel?”  
          She didn’t really wait for an answer, and Moira didn’t have one - after the longest second of Moira’s life, Angela turned back to serving the pasta. “So?” she asked over her shoulder.  
          Moira was interrupted mid-drink. “So what?”  
          “Are you unhappy?”  
          She wasn’t sure what the answer was. She felt a lot of things, like her complex frustrations with Blackwatch. Her research was exploding - in her downtime, she had unimaginable resources, things she hadn’t even thought to ask for yet. Her latest technology, the projectile forms she was developing, was almost ready for deployment, but her recent time laid up often left her wondering if it was worth the cost to her personal life.  
          And thinking about her personal life…she couldn’t go too deep. Her whole purpose in Zürich, with Overwatch, was a lie. How was she supposed to settle in? How much of a facade was she expected to put up, _knowing_ a day would come that tore it all away? Maybe it would be in a few weeks - maybe she could live decades before the organization collapsed. Moira wasn’t sure which was worse, but either way she lost out on a normal life.  
          “No,” she finally answered. She wasn’t unhappy, she just…wasn’t. She wasn’t anything outside of her work. “Smells great, Angela.”  
          “Thank you!” There was no further pressing - Angela either got what she was looking for, or took the hint to move on. She served them, and they enoyed their dinner while talking. The discussed more about their respective fields of interest and other professional things, but as they moved on to their second and third drinks, they drifted off to other topics and opened up a bit more.  
          “So why do you study what you do, Moira?” Angela asked, draining her glass.  
          Moira smiled into hers. “I could ask you the same thing.”  
          “You know, you do that a lot.”  
          “Do what?”  
          “Turn things around. Dodge giving answers.” Angela poured herself more wine. “Why?”  
          “I’m very aware of how information can be used. That’s all,” she responded, sipping from her whiskey.  
          “Ah, so you have trust issues.”  
          “Doctor Zeigler, where is your bedside manner?”  
          She laughed out loud. “I lost it a few ounces ago, I think.” She then swirled her drink around, thinking. “So you must be aware that, in lieu of answers, people will make things up.”  
          “Have people already started rumors about me?” Moira asked, half joking. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”  
          “Oh, no!” Angela emphatically assured her, “Absolutely not! But, you know...if no one knows why you practice medicine, they’ll probably assume you do it for the same reason they do.”  
          “And what reason is that?”  
          Angela gave Moira a look, a step below rolling her eyes. “You are creatively persistent.” Moira didn’t answer, just smiling and sipping as she held Angela’s gaze.  
          Finally, Angela sat back and took a deep breath. “I have an autoimmune disease, actually. Myasthenia gravis.”  
          “English name?”  
          Angela giggled. “That _is_ English, Moira. Myasthenia gravis. Chronic muscle weakness - my antibodies block nerve signals, and I get weak and fatigued, even in my _eyelids_ ,” she explained.  
          “Oh…I had no idea.”  
          “Most people don’t. I’m almost in remission - well-maintained most days.” Angela finished off her glass in a large gulp. “But, it’s why I’m so interested in symptom management, especially relating to muscle fatigue and pain - and what a better place to learn than with soldiers? People working harder than almost anyone?” She started reaching for the bottle, but Moira pulled it back slightly, just out of her reach.  
          “I’m not cutting you off, but it might not be the best idea to finish a whole bottle in an hour…” Moira said gently, placing her hand over Angela’s outstretched fingers.  
          She pouted slightly, but eventually sat back, accepting. “So. Your turn.”  
          “Oh, that wasn’t part of the arrangement.” Moira said, finishing her drink as well, then collecting their glasses to take to the kitchen.  
          “How unfair!!” Angela protested. “I feel tricked!"  
          Moira laughed, bubbling up faster and louder than normal. But by the time she rinsed the glasses and returned, Angela was already dozing off - she’d ended up laying on the couch, her head now occupying Moira’s seat.  
          She considered what to do. Should she wake Angela? But really, what was the need? Angela slept so peacefully, quietly snoring and with a softness in her face that the stress of work always marred. Moira decided to just let it be - she pulled down a blanket from the closet, gently draping it over Angela. She wrote a short note, took her spare key off her key ring to place on the bottom, then went to her own bedroom. _“You fell asleep so soundly and so quickly, it felt criminal to wake you._ _If you leave before I’m awake, here’s a key to lock up. You can leave it in my office. See you soon."  
          "And thank you for checking on me.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the end notes! 
> 
> so basically, my whole life was turned upside down and i suddenly moved across the country in about a month's time. but i LOVE where i live, i love my job, and now that those very basic things are in place, i'm gonna get back into the swing of everything. like i mentioned earlier, this fic will update on thursdays now. if you want more of me and my stuff, my fiverr store will reopen soon - i offer a TON of stuff, but you might be interested in a writing commission! i take both sfw and nsfw commissions, fanfic or not. 
> 
> a little unrelated, but if you're here because you're a big ol' gay like me - i do drag and standup! follow me on my main accounts for more of that, or how you can come see me in person if you live in the chicago area! the next phase of "reopening" will be more cosplay builds and content - a few more boxes to unpack before i have a full workstation again, though. 
> 
> thanks again! you're amazing!! every person that left kudos or comments, especially while i was away - thank you, they're so encouraging and such a little shot of joy in my day. 
> 
> mains:  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamurphyacts)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamurphyacts.tumblr.com)  
> ☆ [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5HdIzaqfgMOtBdgYvUMfhA?)  
> ☆ [ko-fi](https://www.ko-fi.com/samamurphy)  
> ☆ [fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/samamurphyacts)
> 
> cosplay:  
> ☆ [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [insta](https://www.instagram.com/samamcosplay)  
> ☆ [tumblr](https://www.samamcosplay.tumblr.com)


End file.
